A Future Written
by 1Kiko
Summary: The battle is over, Voldemort dead. But looking around, it wasn't enough. A plan is devised, and Hermione travels 20 years into the past with her sister-in-law in hopes of changing things for the better.
1. A Prologue

_A/N: Yes, it's another story. And yes, it's another "the characters read the books" story. So yes, I know, two strikes against me and you haven't even started the first chapter. But I have one more strike before I'm out, so give me a fair chance. Please?_

_Disclaimer: Nothing written in the Harry Potter books is mine. No characters from the Harry Potter books belong to me. Anything not actually in the Harry Potter books is (tentatively) mine._

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A Prologue

Albus Dumbledore was not accustomed to being surprised, especially not so early in the morning. But even he could not deny that the sudden (and rather dramatic) appearance of a hefty package and a letter in the hand of his Deputy Headmistress was surprising. Especially considering the fact that Minerva claimed both the title of Headmistress and the date to be 1998.

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Dumbledore looked over the list of requested witches and wizards once more before setting about summoning them to a passage on the seventh floor.

When he arrived opposite the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy, he was pleased to see that everyone had gathered.

Mr. James Potter stood next to Miss Lily Evans, Mr. Remus Lupin and Mr. Sirius Black on his other side. Miss Alice Loch stood to Lily's left, Mr. Frank Longbottom beside her, an arm wrapped around her waist. Several paces away, and eying their companions carefully, were Mr. Severus Snape and Mr. Regulus Black. Rounding up their strange little group was Minerva McGonagall, who turned to face Dumbledore the instant he drew near.

"Albus, what is the meaning of this?" There was only curiosity in Minerva's tone, though a little bit of apprehension sharpened her words; after all, being summoned by Albus Dumbledore without even a brief explanation in this day and age, was cause for alarm.

When the others nodded along with her question, Dumbledore smiled, "That, my dear professor, will be explained momentarily. Now, if you'll allow me…" He gestured towards the wall, and though her expression was mystified, McGonagall nodded and stepped away, allowing him the space he needed.

With another smile and nod, Dumbledore began to pace before the blank stretch of wall specified in his letter. He was genuinely surprised when the door appeared, and much delighted by this particular discovery. So excited was he to explore the possibilities of the room, that he almost forgot about the reason for his being there. However, at the sound of his colleague clearing her throat behind him, he suppressed his desires with a cheerful smile, "Marvelous." He pulled open the door and gestured the others in with a bow, "If you all would be so kind as to enter, I will address my reasons for summoning all of you here."

With the promise of an explanation, all eight of the students hurried into the room. Minerva followed them, pausing to raise an amused eyebrow at her friend, receiving a rueful chuckle in reply.

The room they entered was plain and square. It had the look of a small seating room with several plush couches and chairs arranged around a small, wooden table at the center of the room. Portraits depicting foreign landscapes adorned the walls, and there was a door in the corner of the far wall that, upon Sirius' inspection, was discovered to be the loo.

Dumbledore closed the door to the behind them, and watched for a moment as the students fidgeted uncomfortably under their professors' gaze. "You would be much more comfortable if you were seated," Dumbledore commented cheerfully. As the students scrambled to take their seats, he placed the package onto the little table. Taking the letter from his pocket, Dumbledore took the seat next to Minerva's, unfolding the letter as he made himself comfortable. "First, I would like to thank all of you for arriving so promptly," he paused a moment to look about the room, "This morning, at exactly 7:15, I received both this letter, and the package sitting on the table. Both incredibly intriguing, I assure you, however, it is the contents of the letter that have lead to all of us gathering here."

With another benign smile, he began to read, "_Albus,_

"_I hope this letter finds you in good health, dear friend._

"_Doubtlessly, you already have several questions, however, I will ask that you allow them to remain unanswered for a short time. You will find in the package accompanying this letter, four books. These books are numbered, and should be read in the order given._

"_The events of these books are not, however, works of fiction. They are fact, and at the time in which I write this letter have already come to pass. I send these books to you now, along with two guides, in hopes that some of what is written will not come to pass._

"_If you would gather Miss Alice Loch, Mr. Frank Longbottom, Mr. James Potter, Miss Lily Evans, Mr. Regulus Black, Mr. Remus Lupin, Mr. Severus Snape, Mr. Sirius Black, and myself, it would be most appreciated._

"_I am sure that you have heard of the Come and Go Room from the house elves. The Room of Requirements, as we call it, will easily accommodate your needs, and upon entering the room, and ensuring that you have completed my requests, your guides will be revealed to you._

"Signed, Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And dated, 1998."

Stunned silence fell upon the room as Dumbledore finished reading the letter. As the students glanced to one another, Dumbledore turned his attention to Minerva. She was staring back at him, eyes wide, flicking from his face, to the letter, and back.

"May I see the letter, Albus?" she finally requested. He, obligingly, handed it over for her inspection. She was silent as she examined the parchment, and all eyes settled upon her in expectation. "Well," she said sometime later, straightening up and placing the letter in her lap, "It is my handwriting."

"Of course it is," laughed a soft Scottish lilt from the supposedly empty space behind them.

As one, the ten summoned occupants of the Room of Requirements spun towards the wall opposite the door they entered. To the astonishment of each, two young women now stood where there had been no one before. They were about the same height, dressed comfortably, and positively littered with small cuts in various stages of healing. The one to the left was a brunette, her hair somewhat bushy, warm brown eyes, and an exasperated expression upon her face. Her companion had braided her black hair over her shoulder, and regarded their audience with laughing light green eyes.

The brunette sighed and smacked her companion lightly on the arm before turning back to the room as a whole, "My apologies, Kendra isn't known for being particularly discreet." The other girl, Kendra, laughed.

Dumbledore recovered first, and stood to greet the newcomers, "No harm done, I assure you. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts."

Kendra spoke up before anyone else could offer and introduction, "The rest of you should save your breath, we know who you are. We are after all, part of the group that summoned you here."

Her companion nodded in agreement, "I'm Hermione by the way. It is nice to see you all here, we were a little worried that this wouldn't work out."

Dumbledore returned to his seat, and as Kendra and Hermione settled down on the unoccupied couch on McGonagall's other side, Lily Evans spoke up, "I don't mean to be rude, but could you please explain what we're all doing here?"

Kendra smiled in response, but it was Hermione that explained, "Four days ago, the worst wizard the world has ever seen, the Dark Lord Voldemort, was killed." The occupants of the room were once more stunned into silence. "However, this event won't occur until twenty years into the future, at which time, the price of winning the battle will simply be too much to make it truly worth winning."

Her words trailed off into a sad silence, and Kendra placed a hand on Hermione's arm before taking up the story, "We decided that there was a chance to change some things. Not everything, mind, but enough. So we came up with a plan. All of you here are important in the demise of one Lord Moldy Shorts. _That_ is why you're here. We wanted to give you the chance, and the option, of changing the future."

Hermione nodded, "The books we have brought will tell the story of our time at Hogwarts until the final battle. Although, they begin in our fourth year, and will omit a few details."

"What kind of details?" it was Frank who spoke, the rest were still more than a little surprised.

"A few things that, while important, will not actually change the basic makeup of the story if left out. For instance, there will be no mention of Kendra in any of these books," Hermione explained.

"Why not?" Remus asked. The others had recovered, and were now all regarding the young witch curiously.

"She's a bit paranoid," Hermione began jokingly, only to be cut off by Kendra.

"Hey! That paranoia saved your life more than once, thank you very much," her voice was indignant, and she poked her tongue out at Hermione. "But, all joking aside, my existence is a bit complicated, and we couldn't be sure that you would actually follow the directions given to you. We decided that if you did, then Hermione and I would be here to explain anything not in the story itself."

The others in the room regarded the pair silently for a while before Snape spoke up, "Is there any particular reason we should actually believe you?"

It looked as if one or two of the others were about to berate Snape for his question, but Hermione jumped in before they could, "It's a fair question. And in answer, there are some things we can tell you that should allay your doubts. First, Severus, your mother's maiden name is Prince, something you took great pride in using anonymously. You may not want to leave your old potions books laying around. Second, and I hope you will forgive me for this, it would have come out in any case. Remus is a werewolf. The Marauders became animagi in their fifth year. Sirius a large black dog, James a stag, and… Wormtail a rat."

There were several gasps from the group as they turned as a whole to the Marauders. Sensing that they were about to get the talking to of their lives from their Head of House, James jumped in, "Say, where is Peter anyway?"

All three Marauders were surprised to see both young women from the future shudder at the mention of their missing friend. "For now, let's just say we have reasons for not including him. It'll make sense soon," Kendra wrinkled her nose slightly as she spoke.

The boys looked at each other in confusion but decided to let it be for now. Unfortunately for them, Professor McGonagall was not quite as inclined to letting them off the hook. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, would you care to explain why you found it necessary to attempt such dangerous magic without supervision?"

"Erm..." James and Sirius exchanged frightened glances, not sure how to answer that.

To everyone's great surprise, Kendra burst out laughing. Every eye turned to the teen doubled over in hysterics. "What's so funny?" Sirius asked.

But Kendra was still much too caught up in her laughter to answer, so, with another of her ever present sighs, Hermione explained, "I believe it's the fact that Professor McGonagall actually completed her own animagus transformation several years prior to the time she chose to reveal it to anyone."

The students all exchanged glances, unsure as to how that would be relevant, but Dumbledore turned straight to Minerva, his eyes a little wider than usual, "You had already completed the transformation by the time you came to me?"

McGonagall seemed to be caught somewhere between anger and embarrassment and only responded with, "My mother."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly and turned back to the others. Kendra's laughter had petered off and stopped abruptly at McGonagall's words, though only Hermione really noticed. Taking a deep breath, she added, "And she's always had nothing but the deepest respect for you two for that particular accomplishment." She locked eyes with McGonagall, and for a while everything was silent. Then Kendra looked away and addressed the others, "If you don't need any more proof, we could always start reading."

There were nods all about the room, and it was Alice, after a nod from the Headmaster, that reached forward and opened the package. She took the first book off the stack and read the writing on the front, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire."

"You named the books?" Hermione turned to her companion, eyes wide in surprise.

Kendra just shrugged, "Well, it's more interesting than just leaving them blank." There were several appreciative chuckles at this, and Hermione rolled her eyes, though she couldn't quite bite back a smile.

Turning back to Alice, Hermione gestured to the book, as it was opened she explained one last thing, "We know that you're going to have a lot of questions. We'll explain when things come up in the books. But also please understand that there are a lot of things we would prefer not to talk about, so if we don't answer your questions, we aren't trying to be rude, everything should be explained in due course."

"Also, there will be a lot of saying He-Who-Wears-Shorts-of-Mold's name. While we encourage you to use it, we aren't going to force anyone. So if you aren't comfortable saying his name, don't worry," Kendra added. Hermione looked at her oddly and she flicked her eyes meaningfully over to Regulus. Nodding as understanding dawned upon her, Hermione settled into her seat.

When everyone had agreed to the conditions presented, Hermione nodded to Alice. Now slightly apprehensive, she opened the book, "The first chapter is called **The Riddle House.**"

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_A/N: I wanted to try something a little different with this story line. Think it'll go okay? I will be happy to answer any questions you have, just send me a note._

_Thanks for taking the time to read.  
=] Kiko_


	2. A First Chapter

_A/N: Okay, so here's the first chapter. Not much happens, things are kind of warming up. There's going to be a lot for the characters to deal with, all of them. But they don't know each other well at all yet, and they aren't aware of the issues that will be coming up, so things are gonna be boring the first few chapters. That said, definitely don't expect that every chapter is going to come with some new, incredibly enlightening revelation. Then again, don't be surprised if some of them do._

_Disclaimer: Nothing in bold is mine. All bolded words are direct type from Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire and belong to JK Rowling. All characters besides Kendra are also property of JK Rowling, I've just kidnapped them for a time._

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A First Chapter

**"The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it 'the Riddle House,'**—

Sirius cut Alice off, "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"He has a plaque for service to the school down in the Trophy Room," James answered.

"And how do you know that?" Lily asked him with a raised eyebrow, "I wasn't aware that you spent much time in the Trophy Room."

Remus let out a barking laugh, "Detention, Lily, he's had to clean the trophies more than once."

There was a bit of laughter in response to his statement, and Alice continued, "**even though it had been many years since the Riddle family had ever lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied.**

**"****The Little Hagletons all agreed that the old house was 'creepy.' Half a century ago something strange and horrible had happened there, something that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss when topics for gossip were scarce. The story had been picked over so many times, and had been embroidered in so many places, that nobody was quite sure what the truth was anymore. Every version of the tale, however, started in the same place: Fifty years before, at daybreak on a fine summer's morning when the Riddle House had still been well kept and impressive, a maid had entered the drawing room to find all three Riddles dead."**

"How'd they die?" Sirius wanted to know.

"I believe you would find out if you exercised some patience, Black," Snape sneered.

Realizing that it would be a really long time in this room if Sirius and Snape were allowed to be at each other's throats every few minutes, Alice kept right on reading, only allowing Sirius to glare at Snape.

**"****The maid had run screaming down the hill into the village and roused as many people as she could.**

'**Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their dinner things!'**

** "The police were summoned, and the whole of Little Hangleton had seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted their breath pretending to feel very sad about the Riddles, for they had been most unpopular. Elderly Mr. and Mrs. Riddle had been rich, snobbish, and rude, and their grown-up son, Tom, had been, if anything, worse. All the villagers cared about was the identity of their murderer — for plainly, three apparently healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same night."**

"The Killing Curse then," this time it was Regulus that interrupted Alice.

A couple of eyebrows rose, and Frank asked, "What makes you say that?"

"I don't think there would be a point in mentioning this place, and the murders there if they were committed by non-magical means. So it must be the Killing Curse."

Lily and Alice exchanged a glance and shuddered.

** "The Hanged Man, the village pub, did a roaring trade that night; the whole village seemed to have turned out to discuss the murders. They were rewarded for leaving their firesides when the Riddles' cook arrived dramatically in their midst and announced to the suddenly silent pub that a man called Frank Bryce had just been arrested.**

'**Frank!' cried several people. 'Never!'**

** Frank Bryce was the Riddles' gardener. He lived alone in a run-down cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House. Frank had come back from the war with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises, and had been working for the Riddles ever since.**

** There was a rush to buy the cook drinks and hear more details.**

'**Always thought he was odd,' she told the eagerly listening villagers, after her fourth sherry. 'Unfriendly, like. I'm sure if I've offered him a cuppa once, I've offered it a hundred times. Never wanted to mix, he didn't.'"**

"Now that's just rude!" Hermione burst out, "The man was in the war, defended his country, and this is what he gets?"

"I agree," Lily nodded to her.

"So do I," Kendra agreed, "but it's not all that surprising. I mean, look at the way the Wizarding World treats those that fought in its wars. They're respected sure, to their face. But in the background, in the whispers…"

"It is rather unfortunate," Dumbledore agreed, "After the war with Grindelwald, I had hoped some things might change. But it appears that was not to be."

Kendra rolled her eyes and Hermione flicked her on the shoulder in reprove.

Curious, but not sure she would be answered, Alice continued to read, **"'Ah, now,' said a woman at the bar, 'he had a hard war, Frank. He likes the quiet life. That's no reason to —'**

'**Who else had a key to the back door, then?' barked the cook. 'There's been a spare key hanging in the gardener's cottage far back as I can remember! Nobody forced the door last night! No broken windows!'"**

"Definitely magic then," Frank commented, nodding to Regulus in acknowledgement.

** "'All Frank had to do was creep up to the big house while we was all sleeping…'**

** The villagers exchanged dark looks.**

'**I always thought that he had a nasty look about him, right enough,' grunted a man at the bar.**

"And if there hadn't been a murder, no one would have thought anything of his life choices," Hermione huffed.

**"'****War turned him funny, if you ask me,' said the landlord.**

**'****Told you I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of Frank, didn't I, Dot?' said an excited woman in the corner.**

**'****Horrible temper,' said Dot, nodding fervently. 'I remember, when he was a kid…'**

** "By the following morning, hardly anyone in Little Hangleton doubted that Frank Bryce had killed the Riddles. But over in the neighboring town of Great Hangleton, in the dark and dingy police station, Frank was stubbornly repeating, again and again, that he was innocent, and that the only person he had seen near the house on the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired and pale."**

"Albus," the students were more than a little surprised when McGonagall interrupted, "You don't think…"

"I daresay, Minerva, it may well have been," Dumbledore sighed.

The others remained silent, waiting for the explanation. When none was forthcoming, Sirius spoke up, "Would you mind explaining to the rest of us?"

He quailed immediately under the look McGonagall gave him, and for a moment, the others were sure he was going to receive detention rather than an answer to his question. Then, her expression softened, "Tom Riddle was several years younger than I, and I met him only briefly before graduating, but the description of the young man at the house could easily describe him. Granted, it would be easy to describe most young men as such, but Riddle is not a common surname, especially in the Wizarding World."

A few looks were exchanged, and Alice picked right back up with the story, **"****Nobody else in the village had seen any such boy, and the police were quite sure Frank had invented him. Then, just when things were looking very serious for Frank, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and changed everything. The police had never read an odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies and had concluded that none of the Riddles had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangles, suffocated, or (as far as they could tell) harmed at all. In fact (the report continued, in a tone of unmistakable bewilderment), the Riddles all appeared to be in perfect health — apart from the fact that they were all dead.**

**"****The doctors did note (as though determined to find something wrong with the bodies) that each of the Riddles had a look of terror upon his or her face — but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three people being frightened to death?"**

"Rabbits can be," Kendra commented.

Hermione turned to her with a raised eyebrow, "And that is important because…?"

Kendra simply shrugged.

** "As there was no proof that the Riddles had been murdered at all, the police were forced to let Frank go. The Riddles were buried in the Little Hangleton churchyard, and their graves remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, and amid a cloud of suspicion, Frank Bryce returned to his cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House.**

**"'****As far as I'm concerned, he killed them, and I don't care what the police say,' said Dot in the Hanged Man. 'And if he had any decency, he'd leave here, knowing as how we knows he did it.'**

** "But Frank did not leave. He stayed to tend the garden for the next family who lived in the Riddle House, and then the next — for neither family stayed long. Perhaps it was partly because of Frank that the new owners said there was a nasty feeling about the place, which, in the absence of inhabitants, started to fall into disrepair.** **The wealthy man who owned the Riddle House these days neither lived there nor put it to any use; they said in the village that he kept it for 'tax reasons,' though nobody was very clear what these might be. The wealthy owner continued to pay Frank to do the gardening, however. Frank was nearing his seventy-seventh birthday now, very deaf, his bad leg stiffer than ever, but could be seen pottering around the flower beds in fine weather, even though the weeds were starting to creep up on him, try as he might to suppress them. Weeds were not the only things Frank had to contend with either. Boys from the village made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the Riddle House. They rode their bicycles over the lawns Frank worked so hard to keep smooth. Once or twice, they broke into the old house for a dare."**

"Must they be so rude?" Lily questioned.

James laughed, "Lils, they're teenage boys, it's normal."

"Are you saying that you'd break into a house, or torment the housekeeper, on a dare?"

"Well, yeah," James shrugged, "I mean…" He looked up at that moment, and realized that the look on Lily's face meant he'd made a mistake.

Sirius and Remus were practically doubled over in silent fits of laughter as James cringed away from the glare his girlfriend was giving him.

Recognizing, once again, the potential for disaster, Alice hurried to keep reading, **"****They knew that old Frank's devotion to the house and the grounds amounted almost to an obsession, and it amused them to see him limping across the garden, brandishing his stick and yelling croakily at them.**

**"****Frank, for his part, believed the boys tormented him because they, like their parents and grandparents, thought him a murderer. So when Frank awoke one night in August and saw something very odd up at the old house, he merely assumed that the boys had gone one step further in their attempts to punish him. It was Frank's bad leg that woke him; it was paining him worse than ever in his old age. He got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen with the idea of refilling his hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in his knee. Standing at the sink, filling the kettle, he looked up at the Riddle House and saw lights glimmering in its upper windows. Frank knew at once what was going on. The boys had broken into the house again, and judging by the flickering quality of the light, they had started a fire.**

**"****Frank had no telephone, —" **

"Telephone?" Remus asked.

"Muggle thing," Kendra shrugged.

She seemed prepared to leave her explanation at that, so Hermione jumped in, "It's a device muggles use to talk to each other. It's sort of like a muggle version of a floo call."

**"—in any case, he had deeply mistrusted the police ever since they had taken him in for questioning about the Riddles' deaths.**

**"He put down the kettle at once, hurried back upstairs as fast as his bad leg would allow, and was soon back in his kitchen, fully dressed and removing a rusty old key from its hook by the door. He picked up his walking stick, which was propped against the wall, and set off into the night. The front door of the Riddle House bore no sign of being forced, nor did any of the windows.**

"So it isn't the neighborhood boys," Frank commented.

"Do you think it's the same person as before?" Alice asked. There were a few pensive looks throughout the room at her suggestion.

**"****Frank limped around to the back of the house until he reached a door almost completely hidden by ivy, took out the old key, put it into the lock, and opened the door noiselessly. He let himself into the cavernous kitchen. Frank had not entered it for many years; nevertheless, although it was very dark, he remembered where the door into the hall was, and he groped his way towards it, his nostrils full of the smell of decay, ears pricked for any sound of footsteps or voices from overhead.**

**"****He reached the hall, which was a little lighter owing to the large mullioned windows on either side of the front door, and started to climb the stairs, blessing the dust that lay thick upon the stone, because it muffled the sound of his feet and stick. On the landing, Frank turned right, and saw at once where the intruders were: At the every end of the passage a door stood ajar, and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. Frank edged closer and closer, he was able to see a narrow slice of the room beyond. The fire, he now saw, had been lit in the grate. This surprised him."**

"Why?" Sirius asked, "Aren't fires supposed to be lit in the grate?"

"Mate, if you were breaking into an old house and lighting a fire, would you bother to clean out the grate?" Remus asked.

"Of course," James assured him, Sirius nodding in vehement agreement.

Kendra turned to Hermione with a raised eyebrow. The brunette's expression grew pensive, "I don't think we ever broke into a house…"

The entire room turned, as one, to stare at her. "What?" Kendra asked the others, "Things happen. Now c'mon, let's keep reading."

Most eyes stayed upon the duo from the future, but Alice complied with her request, **"Then he stopped moving and listened intently, for a man's voice spoke within the room; it sounded timid and fearful,** **'There is a little more in the bottle, My Lord, if you are still hungry.'**

** 'Later,' said a second voice. This too belonged to a man — but it was strangely high-pitched, and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand up.**

** 'Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail.'"**

"Peter?" James gasped, "What's he doing there?" Again, neither Hermione nor Kendra were quite able to fight off the wince at his words, and the three Marauders exchanged worried looks.

**"****Frank turned his right ear toward the door, the better to hear. There came the clink of a bottle being put down upon some hard surface, and then the dull scraping noise of a heavy chair being dragged across the floor. Frank caught a glimpse of a small man, his back to the door, pushing the chair into place. He was wearing a long black cloak, and there was a bald patch at the back of his head. Then he went out of sight again."**

"Apparently age doesn't agree with Pete too much," Sirius joked. His words were met by strained smiles from his two friends.

**"'****Where is Nagini?' said the cold voice.**

**"'****I — I don't know, My Lord,'—"**

"My Lord?" Remus gasped, "It can't be. Not—" He looked to Kendra and Hermione for reassurance, but when neither of them denied his conclusion he paled.

"What?" James asked, concerned for his friend, both the one in the story, and the one next to him. But Remus just shook his head, his expression tight.

** "—said the first voice nervously. 'She set out to explore the house, I think…'**

**'****You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail,' said the second voice. 'I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly.'**

**"****Brow furrowed, Frank inclined his good ear still closer to the door, listening very hard. There was a pause, and then the man called Wormtail spoke again. **

**'****My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?'**

**'****A week,' said the cold voice. 'Perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over.'"**

"The Quidditch World Cup!" James cheered, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. "Will we get to read about it?" he asked Kendra.

She grinned back at him, "Of course."

While James did a sort of seated victory dance, Alice continued to read, **"Frank inserted a gnarled finger into his ear and rotated it. Owing, no doubt, to a buildup of earwax, he had heard the word 'Quidditch,' which was not a word at all."**

There was a general round of laughter at this. "Poor muggles," James lamented, "Never getting to see Quidditch."

**"'****The — the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?' said Wormtail. (Frank dug his finger still more vigorously into his ear.) 'Forgive me, but — I do not understand – why should we wait until the World Cup is over?'**

**'****Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait.'**

** "Frank stopped trying to clear out his ear. He had distinctly heard the words 'Ministry of Magic,' 'wizards,' and 'Muggles.' Plainly, each of these expressions meant something secret, and Frank could think of only two sorts of people who would speak in code: spies and criminals.**

**"****Frank tightened his hold on his walking stick once more, and listened more closely still.**

**'****Your Lordship is still determined, then?' Wormtail said quietly.**

**'****Certainly I am determined, Wormtail.' There was a note of menace in the cold voice now.**

**"****A slight pause followed — and the Wormtail spoke, the words tumbling from him in a rush, as though he was forcing himself to say this before he lost his nerve.**

** '****It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord.'"**

"Harry Potter?" Lily questioned, "I'd forgotten about him, he's the one this book is supposed to be about too. Is he a relative James?"

James scratched the back of his head as he thought, "I don't think so. Can't recall any relatives named Harry, or with kids named Harry." He turned again to Kendra, his face hopeful. To his great disappointment, she laughed and gestured to the book once more.

**"****Another pause, more protracted, and then —**

**'****Without Harry Potter?' breathed the second voice softly. 'I see…'**

**'****My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy!' said Wormtail, his voice rising squeakily. 'The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all!'"**

"So he's a boy then?" James asked, his eyes a little distant as he thought over family members, trying to think of any that might be expecting.

"What's Peter mean, 'the boy is nothing'?" Remus wanted to know. He exchanged a worried glance with Sirius as Alice continued reading.

**"'It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard — any wizard — the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while — you know that I can disguise myself most effectively — I could be back here in as little as two days with a suitable person —'**

** 'I could use another wizard,' said the cold voice softly, 'that is true…'**

**'****My Lord, it makes sense,' said Wormtail, sounding thoroughly relieved now. 'Laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected—'**

**'****And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder… perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?'**

**'****My Lord! I — I have no wish to leave you, none at all —'**

**'****Do not lie to me!' hissed the second voice. 'I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me…'**

**'****No! My devotion to Your Lordship —'**

**'****Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?'**

**'****But you seem so much stronger, My Lord —'**

**'****Liar,' breathed the second voice. 'I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!'**

**"****Wormtail, who had been sputtering incoherently, fell silent at once. For a few seconds, Frank could hear nothing but the fire crackling. Then the second man spoke once more, in a whisper that was almost a hiss.**

**'****I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other.** **I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail — courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord V—" **Alice paused, glanced across the room at the time travelers and took a deep breath, **"'Voldemort's wrath —'"**

"What?" Sirius and James cried together.

Remus had paled once more, as had Alice, Frank, and Lily, they all knew Peter and were utterly terrified for him. "But," Lily sputtered a little.

Kendra and Hermione exchanged a glance, and Hermione turned to Lily, addressing her directly, but the others as well, "There are some things that won't make sense right away. We'll explain, but not for a bit longer."

There were a few shaky nods, McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged a look, and Alice returned her attention to the book.

**"'****My Lord, I must speak!' said Wormtail, panic in his voice now. 'All through our journey I have gone over the plan in my head — My Lord, Bertha Jorkin's** **disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I murder —'"**

There were another series of gasps from the group.

**"****'****If?' whispered the second voice. 'If? If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry need never know that anyone else has died. You will do it quietly and without fuss; I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my present condition… Come, Wormtail, one more death and our path to Harry Potter is clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my faithful servant will have rejoined us —'**

**'****I am a faithful servant,' said Wormtail, the merest trace of sullenness in his voice."**

"He can't mean that," James whispered desperately. He glanced once more at Kendra, and the sorrow in her gaze rocked him. He reached over and gripped Lily's hand in attempt to remain calm.

**"'****Wormtail, I need somebody with brains, somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you, unfortunately, fulfill neither requirement.'**

**'****I found you,' said Wormtail, and there was definitely a sulky edge to his voice now. 'I was the one who found you. I brought you Bertha Jorkins.'**

**'****That is true,' said the second man, sounding amused. 'A stroke of brilliance I would not have thought possible from you, Wormtail — though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful she would be when you caught her, were you?'**

**'****I — I thought she might be useful, My Lord —'**

**'****Liar,' said the second voice again, the cruel amusement more pronounced than ever. 'However, I do not deny that her information was invaluable. Without it, I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform…'"**

"Why does that sound so literal?" Frank gulped.

"Knowing The Dark Lord, it might be," it was Regulus that spoke. And he locked gazes with Frank for a moment, both of them more than a little disturbed by the thought.

**"****'****R-really, My Lord? What —?' Wormtail sounded terrified again.**

**'****Ah, Wormtail, you don't want me to spoil the surprise? Your part will come at the very end… but I promise you, you will have the honor of being just as useful as Bertha Jorkins.'"**

"I'm not sure that's really an honor," Sirius bit out through clenched teeth.

** "****'****You… you…' Wormtail's voice suddenly sounded hoarse, as though his mouth had gone very dry. 'You… are going… to kill me too?'**

**'****Wormtail, Wormtail,' said the cold voice silkily, 'why would I kill you? I killed Bertha because I had to. She was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if she had gone back to the Ministry with the news that she had met you on her holidays. Wizards who are supposed to be dead would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic witches at wayside inns…'"**

"Dead?" Remus' voice was worried. "Pete's supposed to be dead?"

**"****Wormtail muttered something so quietly that Frank could not hear it, but it made the second man laugh — an entirely mirthless laugh, cold as his speech.**

**'****We could have modified her memory? But Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her. It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted from her, Wormtail.'**

**"****Out in the corridor, Frank suddenly became aware that the hand gripping his walking stick was slippery with sweat. The man with the cold voice had killed a woman. He was talking about it without any kind of remorse — with amusement. He was dangerous — a madman. And he was planning more murders — this boy, Harry Potter, whoever he was — was in danger — Frank knew what he must do. Now, if ever, was the time to go to the police."**

"Yes!" Alice interrupted herself, nodding fervently at the book, "Leave, go get help."

"I'm not sure that muggle police would really be a lot of help, Alice," Frank placed a hand on her arm to calm her.

"I know," Alice assured her boyfriend, "But he's going to be killed if he doesn't move." She didn't wait for a reply, however, plunging straight back in to her reading, **"He would creep out of the house and head straight for the telephone box in the village… but the cold voice was speaking again, and Frank remained where he was, frozen to the spot, listening with all his might.**

** 'One more murder… my faithful servant at Hogwarts… Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet… I think I hear Nagini…'"**

"Finally!" To everyone's great surprise, it was Snape that provided this particular outburst. He glared at everyone in response, "The name has been mentioned several times already, and yet, we have had no indication of whom this may be. I, for one, am pleased to be nearing an answer."

There were a couple of nods, and a couple of raised eyebrows, but the reading continued on without much of a fuss.

**"And the second man's voice changed. He started making noises such as Frank had never heard before; he was hissing and spitting without drawing breath. Frank thought he must be having some sort of fit or seizure.**

**"****And then Frank heard movement behind him in the dark passageway. He turned to look, and found himself paralyzed with fright. Something was slithering toward him along the dark corridor floor, and as it drew nearer to the sliver of firelight, he realized with a thrill of terror that it was a gigantic snake, at least twelve feet long. Horrified, transfixed, Frank stared as its undulating body cut a wide, curving track through the thick dust on the floor, coming closer and closer — What was he to do? The only means of escape was into the room where the two men sat plotting murder, yet if he stayed where he was the snake would surely kill him —**

** "But before he had made his decision, the snake was level with him, and then, incredibly, miraculously, it was passing; it was following the spitting, hissing noises made by the cold voice beyond the door, and in seconds, the tip of its diamond-patterned tail had vanished through the gap.**

** "There was sweat on Frank's forehead now, and the hand on the walking stick was trembling. Inside the room, the cold voice was continuing to hiss, and Frank was visited by a strange idea, an impossible idea… This man could talk to snakes.**

** "Frank didn't understand what was going on. He wanted more than anything to be back in his bed with his hot-water bottle. The problem was that his legs didn't seem to want to move. As he stood there shaking and trying to master himself, the cold voice switched abruptly to English again.**

**'****Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail,' it said.**

**'****In-indeed, My Lord?' said Wormtail.**

**'****Indeed, yes,' said the voice, 'According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say.'"**

"Oh no," Alice whispered. Frank moved to wrap an arm around her instead.

**"Frank didn't have a chance to hide himself. There were footsteps and then the door of the room was flung wide open. A short, balding man with graying hair, a pointed nose, and small, watery eyes stood before Frank, a mixture of fear and alarm in his face.**

**'****Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?' The cold voice was coming from the ancient armchair before the fire, but Frank couldn't see the speaker. The snake, on the other hand, was curled up on the rotting hearth rug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog. Wormtail beckoned Frank into the room. Though still deeply shaken, Frank took a firmer grip on his walking stick and limped over the threshold."**

"Brave man," James nodded in approval, giving Lily a squeeze, knowing that she would be worried for the old veteran.

** "The fire was the only source of light in the room; it cast long, spidery shadows upon the walls. Frank stared at the back of the armchair; the man inside it seemed to be even smaller than his servant, for Frank couldn't even see the back of his head.**

**'****You heard everything, Muggle?' said the cold voice.**

**'****What's that you're calling me?' said Frank defiantly, for now that he was inside the room, now that the time had come for some sort of action, he felt braver; it had always been so in the war.**

**'****I am calling you a Muggle,' said the voice coolly. 'It means that you are not a wizard.'**

**'****I don't know what you mean by wizard,' said Frank, his voice growing steadier. 'All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too,' he added, on a sudden inspiration, 'my wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back —'**

**'****You have no wife,' said the cold voice, very quietly. 'Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows… he always knows…'"**

"That's downright creepy," Sirius commented. There were several nods of agreement.

"But how?" Lily asked. She was met by confused looks, "How does he know? If it had been me, and Frank mentioned his wife, I would have believed him. So how does You-Know-Who know it's a lie?"

"A very astute question, Miss Evans," Dumbledore nodded to her in acknowledgement, "Hopefully your question will be answered."

**"'****Is that right?' said Frank roughly. 'Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, My Lord. Turn 'round and face me like a man, why don't you?'**

** 'But I am not a man, Muggle,' said the cold voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. 'I am much, much more than a man.'"**

There were several snorts, and Kendra turned to Hermione, genuine confusion written on her face, "I don't get it. How is it that Half-bloods, Muggleborns, muggles, and creatures or those with creature blood, are less than a man, but he's more?"

"Hypocrisy," Hermione shrugged.

Kendra crossed her arms and glared at the book in a bit of a huff, "Well, it's stupid." Hermione grinned and nodded in agreement.

**"'****However… why not? I will face you… Wormtail, come turn my chair around.'**

**"****The servant gave a whimper.**

**'****You heard me, Wormtail.'**

**"****Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug. **

**And then the chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened his mouth and let out a scream. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and Frank Bryce crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor.**

**"****Two hundred miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start."**

"What?" Regulus asked, "How is that related? Or is it just coincidence?"

"Er… A bit of bad luck really," Kendra told him.

"Well, it's the end of the chapter," Alice said closing the book with her finger marking the page.

"Wonderful," Hermione smiled at the group, "Any questions then?"

"Peter," James stated immediately.

Kendra shook her head, "Later. Next chapter maybe. Anything else?"

"I would like to know the connection between He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Riddles," Snape stated.

"And I'd still like to know who this Harry Potter kid is," Alice added.

"Harry will be explained next chapter," Hermione assured them.

"And as for Moldy Shorts, it'll be explained at some point, if not this book then another one. Besides, it might be kind of fun, see if you can put things together."

"In that case, who would care to read next?" McGonagall asked.

"I will," Frank volunteered immediately, taking the book from his girlfriend and opening it up, "We can go around in a circle."


	3. A Second Chapter

_A/N: I hope that no one was particularly attached to the title. I really wasn't, and when I was going through some of my notes the other day, I found this title written down and liked it so much better. Thus, the change. Enjoy!_

* * *

A Second Chapter

Opening the book up to where his girlfriend had left off, Frank read, "The next chapter is called, **The Scar**."

There were several confused glances exchanged, and Sirius spoke up, "I don't get it? What's so special about a scar?"

There was a chuckle from the direction of the time travelers, "If you held your tongue for a little while you'd know," Kendra quipped.

Looking a little put out, Sirius gestured hurriedly to Frank in indication for him to start reading.

With a smile, Frank turned back to the book, **"Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin."**

"Interesting," Dumbledore mussed, "I have never heard of a scar doing that before."

"It's a bit of a unique scar," Hermione commented, cutting off what was sure to have been a biting remark from Kendra.

"It was caused by dark magic, wasn't it?" Regulus asked.

Hermione and Kendra turned to him, somewhat surprised. They exchanged a glance and Kendra answered, "Yes, and no. I just want to be clear now, magic isn't actually dark or light, it's the intent that makes it such. Example, if you were to come across an injured animal, you knew it had no way to recover, and all you had on you was your wand, would it be dark magic to use the Killing Curse as an act of mercy? At the same time, _Wingardium Leviosa_ is commonly regarded as a very innocent spell, light magic. However, if you are standing beside a cliff, take another person's wand, and then levitate them off the side of the cliff, how can that be considered light magic?"

For a time everyone was silent as they considered what Kendra had said. "But, there are rituals and things that are definitely dark," James exclaimed after a few moments of thought.

Kendra nodded, "I agree. But those rituals are created with dark intentions. They go against or blatantly ignore the ways of the universe. They create discord and imbalance."

James watched her intently for a while longer, before sitting back in his seat with a pensive expression and a gesture for Frank to continue reading.

**"He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other hand reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window.**

** "Harry ran his fingers over the scar again. It was still painful. He turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened his wardrobe, and peered into the mirror on the inside of the door. A skinny boy of fourteen looked back at him, his bright green eyes puzzled under his untidy black hair. **

"He sounds like you, Prongs," Sirius laughed. Kendra grinned smugly at Hermione, who grinned back, even as she shook her head.

**"He examined the lightning-bolt scar of his reflection more closely. It looked normal, but it was still stinging.**

** "Harry tried to recall what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken. It had seemed so real… There had been two people he knew and one he didn't… He concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember… **

** "The dim picture of a darkened room came to him… There had been a snake on a hearth rug… a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail…"**

"Wait," it was Remus that requested the stop, and everyone turned to him. "How does Harry know Peter's name? It wasn't mentioned at all last chapter. You-Know-Who just kept calling him Wormtail."

Sirius nodded, "It does seem a little strange. And he looks like James… Hang on, is he James' son?" His question was directed to Kendra and Hermione.

Kendra let out a whoop and turned to Hermione, "Pay up."

With a sigh, Hermione reached into her pocket and handed over three mushrooms, "And I had my money on Remus…"

When they turned back to the room as a whole, everyone was staring at them. "Why did you guys bet with mushrooms?" Alice wanted to know.

"We spent most of last year living in a tent," Hermione explained, "And we would take turns doing the different chores. Since we didn't have any money, we used mushrooms as coins, whoever ended up with the most at the end of the day got to pick what chores they were doing tomorrow."

"It made things fun," Kendra explained, "And we needed fun." She pocketed the mushrooms, "Thank you Sirius."

"Does that mean I'm right?" he asked. Kendra and Hermione both nodded. With a bit of a whoop, he turned to his raven haired best friend, "Did you hear that Jamesie? We're reading about your son. I'd better be godfather."

Sirius' last statement managed to bring James out of his shocked state. "Of course, Paddy," he grinned back, clapping him on the back.

As Remus leaned over to congratulate James as well, Hermione noticed the slightly disappointed look on Lily's face. "Lily," she called softly. When the redhead looked up at her, she smiled, "He has his mother's eyes."

A look of confusion passed over her face. "His mother's eyes," she mouthed to herself. Leaning back, she watched the boys celebrate for a moment, thinking it over. Suddenly she sat up straight, "His eyes are green!" The room froze at Lily's outburst, turning to stare at her. "His eyes are green," she repeated, "He's my, he's my son." She turned to Hermione for confirmation. At the girl's nod a slow, awed smile began to form on Lily's face, "He's my son."

Having recovered rather quickly, James grinned and slung an arm around her, "Our son." Still unbelievably happy, Lily turned to James and kissed him.

The others let them go for a minute, looking awkwardly off in other directions. But finally, Sirius lost his patience. "Alright, let's keep reading. I want to know about Prongs Jr."

James and Lily broke apart swiftly, adding their own voices to the murmurs of agreement, and Frank picked the book back up, **"and a cold, high voice… the voice of Lord Voldemort. Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach at the very thought…**

** "He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what" **Frank too, paused to take a deep breath before saying the name,** "Voldemort had looked like, but it was impossible… All Harry knew was that at the moment when Voldemort's chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was sitting in it, he had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken him… or had that been the pain in his scar? **

** "And who had the old man been? For there had definitely been an old man; Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was all becoming confused. Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them… Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed, though Harry could not remember the name… and they had been plotting to kill someone else… him!"**

Lily's breath hitched, "Why, why are they talking about killing my son? Why is _Peter_ talking about killing my son?"

There was another stunned moment of silence as everyone looked at each other and then turned to the time traveling duo.

It was Kendra who answered, "Because life sucks and nut-jobs are allowed to run free."

Hermione wrapped her arm around the other girl, "It'll make sense soon. But's it's hard to talk about."

There were a few hesitant nods, and Frank began to read again quickly, **"Harry took his face out of his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around his bedroom as though expecting to see something unusual there. As it happened, there was an extraordinary number of unusual things in this room. A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of his bed, revealing a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, and assorted spell books. Rolls of parchment littered that part of his desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside his bed a book lay open; Harry had been reading it before he fell asleep last night. The pictures in this book were all moving. Men in bright orange robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another."**

"I don't see anything unusual about that," Frank interrupted himself, "It seems like a perfectly normal teenage wizard's room."

"Actually, it is pretty unusual for Harry," Kendra laughed, "He's usually really neat."

Most of the boys looked gob smacked at this, and Alice giggled, "Are you sure he's James' son then?" Lily, Hermione, and Kendra all laughed at this while James pouted.

** "Harry walked over to the book, picked it up, and watched on of the wizards score a spectacular goal by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop. Then he snapped the book shut. Even Quidditch — in Harry's opinion, the best sport in the world **(James let out an excited whoop)** — couldn't distract him at the moment. He placed Flying with the Cannons on his bedside table, crossed to the window, and drew back the curtains to survey the street below.**

** "Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban street would be expected to look in the early hours of Saturday morning. All the curtains were closed. As far as Harry could see through the darkness, there wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat.**

** "And yet… and yet… Harry went restlessly back to the bed and sat down on it, running a finger over his scar again. It wasn't the pain that bothered him; Harry was no stranger to pain and injury. He had lost all the bones from his right arm once and had them painfully re-grown in a night."**

"What?" Lily's voice was a little shrill.

Hermione winced, if Harry's injuries were being listed, this was not going to be fun. "He broke his arm in second year, he was hit by a bludger during a Quidditch match."

"But bludgers just break bones, they don't remove them," Remus stated.

Hermione nodded, "That's true, but our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that year thought he should take care of it and ended up removing all the bones from Harry's arm."

"Who was it?"

Hermione smiled at Snape as she answered his question, "Gilderoy Lockhart."

"That buffoon? A teacher?" Snape's voice was incredulous.

Grimacing, Hermione nodded, "Unfortunately."

When no one else spoke, Frank continued, **"The same arm had been pierced by a venomous foot-long fang not long afterward."**

"V-venomous fang?" Lily's voice was a little faint.

Noticing, as Hermione had, that this would be a very draining if Lily overreacted to each of Harry's injuries, Kendra jumped in to stall Lily, "Look, we'll explain everything right after this, but if you keep interrupting it's going to be a very long paragraph."

Lily looked a little affronted, but nodded somewhat shakily.

** "Only last year Harry had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick. He was used to bizarre accidents and injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble."**

"Okay," Lily seemed to have gotten over her fear a little, in favor of her annoyance toward a certain black haired, green eyed youth, "Now that this book has finished listing my son's injuries, can you please explain them to us?"

Kendra opened her mouth, only to have Hermione slap a hand over it. "You were rude first, don't you dare try to cause a fight."

Kendra glared at Hermione for a moment before letting out a sigh, her shoulders sagging in defeat. Removing Hermione's hand from her mouth, she turned to Lily, "I'm sorry. But in the interest in both time, and our sanity, you should know that Harry will get hurt rather often. It just happens, he's good at it."

With her own sigh, Lily wrapped her arms around herself in resignation, "Apology accepted. I'll do my best not to get so worked up."

With a satisfied nod, Kendra explained, "To answer your question, in our second year a basilisk was set lose on the castle and Harry ended up killing it with a sword. Got himself stabbed with one of the things fangs. Fawkes started crying and healed him."

"And he fell off his broom during a Quidditch match during which quite a few Dementors saw fit to grace us with their presence. The Headmaster caught him with a spell, and I'm pretty sure Minerva managed to scare them off without a patronus," Hermione added.

There were several amused chuckles. Hermione remained focused on Lily, watching James rub her back to keep her calm. Kendra, however, kept glancing over to Minerva. She gave up all pretenses and stared blatantly at the thinning of the older witches' lips. A small, secretive smile spread across Kendra's face at Minerva's expression of angered worry. Turning back to the rest of the group, smile still firmly in place, she was just in time to see Lily nod to James, sit up, and indicate to Frank to continue reading.

** "No, the thing that was bothering Harry was the last time his scar had hurt him, it had been because Voldemort had been close by… But Voldemort couldn't be here, now… The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible…" **

"Privet Drive?" James asked, "Where's that? I've never heard of it, so I can't imagine living there." He glanced a Lily, who simply shrugged.

** "Harry listened closely to the silence around him. Was he half expecting to hear the creak of a stair or the swish of a cloak? And then he jumped slightly as he heard his cousin Dudley—" **

James and Lily exchanged another confused look. Kendra leaned against Hermione, seeing what was coming, and knowing they would need each other's support to get through it.

** "— give a tremendous grunting snore from the next room.**

** "Harry shook himself mentally; he was being stupid. There was no one in the house with him except Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia—" **

"What?" James whispered, his face an open mask of confusion.

"Why- why is my baby living with Petunia?" Lily addressed the time travelers, her voice faint, somehow already knowing the answer.

Feeling Kendra tense beside her, Hermione took the other girl's hand as she answered Lily, "Because, on All Hallows Eve, 1981, Harry's parents were murdered by Voldemort."

The intake of air was sharp, and then everything froze. There was complete silence as everyone tried desperately to come to term with the impossible fact that two of their number would not live to see their son grow up. Then Lily started sobbing. The sounds were harsh, pulling from the very depths of her soul.

It was that sound, that broke the room's stalemate. Soon, Alice was also in tears, throwing herself across the space between them to hug Lily fiercely. James, Sirius, and Remus all had silent tears flowing down their faces. Regulus was frozen in a state of shock, staring across the room at two people he'd never associated with, but cared for and respected simply for all that they had done for his brother. Frank looked much like Regulus, simply shell shocked, unable to tear his eyes away from the doomed couple. And Snape, the poor boy's eyes were filled with tears, his lower lip clamped between his teeth, blood flowing from where he'd pierced it in effort to shed no tears.

Both Professors also appeared full of sorrow. The ever-present twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was absent. And Minerva had tears filling her eyes, one slowly falling, unchecked, down her cheek.

It was pain. Pure and simple. The picture of the room was nothing but pain. Kendra gripped Hermione's hand hard, burying her face in the older girl's shoulder. Hermione clutched desperately at her friend, both caught in the misery of war, wishing desperately that everything that had ever gone wrong in their lives had never gone wrong.

It was a long time before the room calmed back down. Alice and Lily slowly separating, though they continued to clasp hands. Both girls were immediately wrapped in their boyfriend's embrace. Sirius and Remus seemed to have mostly shut down. Regulus just watched everyone around him. True, he had no exceptional ties to this group, but the immense sorrow in this room was something he understood, something terrible, and, in a brief moment of clarity he suddenly understood, something he desperately did not want to be a part of.

"Lily?" it was Severus, his voice hoarse, that eventually broke the silence. The redhead turned to face him, her face somewhat apprehensive. "I'm sorry," he croaked.

She watched him, understanding that he wasn't talking about her death. Well, not _just_ talking about her death. He was also talking about the last time they had truly spoken to each other. Of when he had called her _that_. And, she realized, she was sorry too. They had both been in the wrong that day. True, he had used the insult, but she hadn't been golden either, and, like stubborn teenagers were wont to do, they'd both ignored it, maintaining stoically that it'd been the other's fault. "Me too," she whispered back.

There was no great moment of reconciliation, and the others stared at them in confusion, only half comprehending what was happening; but they were okay with that. This was how they worked. And they'd made the first step.

With the tension slowly abating from the room, Frank picked the book up once more. His voice was more hesitant now, having realized that this story probably wasn't going to be nearly as cheerful as he'd first expected, **"—and Dudley, and they were plainly still asleep, their dreams untroubled and painless. Asleep was the way Harry liked the Dursleys best; it wasn't as though they were ever any help to him awake. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were Harry's only living relatives. They were Muggles who hated and despised magic in any form, which meant that Harry was about as welcome in their house as dry rot."**

"Why is he there?" Lily asked. Her voice was quiet, lacking the energy to really show her pain at what she was sure her son had undergone.

"Because your dear Headmaster thought it would be best," Kendra spat.

"Kendra!" Hermione reprimanded harshly, the rest of the room seemed a too shocked at the girl's outburst to really respond, "I thought we agreed. No bias."

"I'm not being biased, Hermione," Kendra glared, "I'm being truthful. That old crow—"

"That is quite enough," McGonagall's voice was sharp, commanding, as she cut Kendra off. When the girl said nothing more, simply crossing her arms in a huff and turning resolutely towards the professor, Minerva gave a curt nod, "Thank you. Now, while what you say may, or may not be true, I would prefer it if you kept from openly slandering anyone within this room."

"It's not him," Kendra threw her arm out to in indignant indication of Dumbledore, "It's y'know, him _later_. I don't know anything about him _now. _He's supposed to be a great wizard/person/leader _now._ It's later that I can't stand him. When the only thing that matters is the 'Greater Good' and he couldn't give two flicks of a wand about the people he's _manipulating_ to make things happen."

"That does not give you reason to be outright rude," Minerva's voice left no room for argument as she leveled the girl with a harsh stare.

For a moment, the two witches continued to glare at each other, then the younger one suddenly slumped in defeat. "Yes mother," she grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring at her lap, now refusing to meet the Minerva's eyes.

Guffaws of laughter rippled from the Marauders of the room as McGonagall's eyebrow arched questioningly. She flicked her eyes over to Hermione hoping for some kind of an explanation, but was met with a smirk and a shake of the girl's head.

Thankful for the complete break of all tension, Frank went back to the book, **"They had explained away Harry's long absences at Hogwarts over the last three years by telling everyone that he went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."**

"They did what?" Apparently, and unfortunately for those seated closest to her, Lily had gotten over her shock at hearing of her own death.

"They're not very nice," Kendra shrugged, "Mind, they might not be far off with some of the things we've done."

"We aren't criminals Kendra," Hermione admonished.

"Dragons, Hermione?" she smirked back at her friend. To the amusement, and confusion of the group, Hermione blushed and muttered something, gesturing desperately for Frank to continue reading.

** "They knew perfectly well that, as an underage wizard, Harry wasn't allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts, but they were still apt to blame him for anything that went wrong about the house. Harry had never been able to confide in them or tell them anything about his life in the wizarding world. The very idea of going to them when they awoke, and telling them about his scar hurting him, and about his worries about Voldemort, was laughable.**

** "And yet it was because of Voldemort that Harry had come to live with the Dursleys in the first place. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would not have had the lightning scar on his forehead. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would still have had parents… **(There was a small, lingering sniff from Lily.)

** "Harry had been a year old the night that Voldemort — the most powerful Dark wizard for a century, a wizard who had been gaining power steadily for eleven years — arrived at his house and killed his father and mother. Voldemort had then turned his wand on Harry; he had performed the curse that had disposed of many full-grown witches and wizards in his steady rise to power — and, incredibly, it had not worked. Instead of killing the small boy, the curse had rebounded upon Voldemort. Harry had survived with nothing but a lightning-shaped cut on his forehead, and Voldemort had been reduced to something barely alive. His powers gone, his life almost extinguished, Voldemort had fled; the terror in which the secret community of witches and wizards had lived for so long had lifted, Voldemort's followers had disbanded, and Harry Potter had become famous."**

"Oh that poor boy." Surprisingly enough, it was Alice, not Lily that had made this sentiment known. "Famous for something so tragic…" her voice trailed off, and she shook her head a bit before rounding on Hermione, "Does that mean he's gone then?"

"Er…" Hermione glanced at Kendra, who shrugged, "Yes, in a way. He's not _alive_ exactly. But he didn't die either."

There were a few speculative nods about the room.

** "It had been enough of a shock for Harry to discover, on his eleventh birthday, that he was a wizard; it had been even more disconcerting to find out that everyone in the hidden wizarding world knew his name. Harry had arrived at Hogwarts to find that heads turned and whispers followed him wherever he went. **

**But he was used to it now:** **at the end of this summer, he would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts, and Harry was already counting the days until he would be back at the castle again. **

** "But there was still a fortnight to go before he went back to school. He looked hopelessly around his room again, and his eye paused on the birthday cards his two best friends had sent him at the end of July. What would they say if Harry wrote to them and told them about his scar hurting?**

** "At once, Hermione Granger's voice seemed to fill his head, shrill and panicky."**

Hermione groaned at this.

**"'****Your scar hurt? Harry, that's really serious… Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions… Maybe there's something in there about curse scars…'"**

Kendra burst into laughter at this.

"There wasn't," Hermione grumbled. Her comment caused the rest of the group to laugh.

"He knows you rather well, then?" Regulus asked.

Hermione nodded, a smile flickering on her face, "Harry pays attention to just about everything. But his friends are really important to him, so he pays even more attention to them."

** "Yes that would be Hermione's advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book."**

"Although I wouldn't tell him to consult the Headmaster," Hermione commented, a puzzled look on her face.

"The books are a little different, remember?" Kendra smiled at her friend when a look of comprehension dawned upon her face.

**"Harry stared out of the window at the inky blue-black sky. He doubted very much whether a book could help him now. As far as he knew, he was the only living person to have survived a curse like Voldemort's; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that he would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays."**

As one, the students turned to Dumbledore for an answer to the question. "Most of my time is taken up by consultations of varying types," he chuckled, "However, I do enjoy a little time to myself each summer, where that is depends entirely upon where the mood takes me."

**"He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full length wizard's robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry's owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write?**

** "**_**Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter.**_

** "Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.****"**

There were several appreciative chuckles at this comment.

"Lils, as much as I love your kid's humor, does he have to be such a pessimist?" Alice joked.

James grinned back at the blonde girl on Lily's other side, "It seems he takes after his mother." Lily smacked his shoulder in retaliation, trying to look affronted and failing miserably as a smile cracked the false demeanor.

**"****And so he tried to imagine his other best friend, Ron Weasley's, reaction, and in a moment, Ron's red hair and long-nosed, freckled face seemed to swim before Harry, wearing a bemused expression.**

**"'****Your scar hurt? But… but You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he? I mean… you'd know, wouldn't you? He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't he? I dunno, Harry, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit… I'll ask Dad…'**

The time traveling duo broke into laughter once again.

"Sounds about right," Hermione chuckled.

"Description, words, voice. My compliments, Frank, you got Ron spot on," Kendra grinned.

To the amusement of the others, his girlfriend included, Frank was blushing a little as he buried his face back into the book, **"Mr. Weasley was a fully qualified wizard who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, but he didn't have any particular expertise in the matter of curses, as far as Harry knew. In any case, Harry didn't like the idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy about a few moments' pain. Mrs. Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione, and Fred and George, Ron's sixteen- year-old twin brothers, might think Harry was losing his nerve. The Weasleys were Harry's favorite family in the world; he was hoping that they might invite him to stay any time now (Ron had mentioned something about the Quidditch World Cup), and he somehow didn't want his visit punctuated with anxious inquiries about his scar.**

** "Harry kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like - someone like a parent:" **

"That isn't shameful," Remus interrupted, "Everyone deserves to have someone looking out for them." There were several nods of agreement.

"— **an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience with Dark Magic… **

** "And then the solution came to him. It was so simple, and so obvious, that he couldn't believe it had taken so long - Sirius."**

The younger version of the mentioned wizard let out a great whoop, punching the air in triumph. "I get to help the pup!" he cheered.

"Pup?" Lily asked him, an eyebrow raised.

Sirius just shrugged, completely unabashed in his excitement to see what role he played in Harry's life.

** "Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at his desk; he pulled a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote **_**Dear Sirius**_**, then paused, wondering how best to phrase his problem, still marveling at the fact that he hadn't thought of Sirius straight away. But then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising - after all, he had only found out that Sirius was his godfather two months ago."**

"What? Why?" Sirius asked. He directed his question towards the duo across from him, paling a little when they winced.

"It'll come up in a moment," Kendra whispered, "Just… don't interrupt, okay? It's gonna be hard, but it's better that everything is explained at once."

As the room exchanged worried glances, Frank took a deep breath, preparing to read this next paragraph as quickly as he possibly could, **"There was a simple reason for Sirius's complete absence from Harry's life until then - Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard jail guarded by creatures called Dementors, sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for Sirius at Hogwarts when he had escaped. Yet Sirius had been innocent - the murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by Wormtail, Voldemort's supporter, whom nearly everybody now believed dead. Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew otherwise, however; they had come face-to-face with Wormtail only the previous year, though only Professor Dumbledore had believed their story."**

"I… Azkaban?" Sirius had lost all possible coloring in his face.

"That's not right," Regulus' voice was fierce, "How could they even think that Sirius would kill anyone? He wouldn't. Not unless it was the only way to get out."

Sirius had bent over, head in hands, breathing heavy. At his brother's words he looked up, "Thanks Reg."

"Of course. You may be a prat, but you're not a murderer," Regulus assured his brother.

"As much as I may dislike Black, I have to agree with his brother," Severus agreed, "He is not a murderer. May I ask then, what happened?"

Sirius looked more than a little surprised at being defended by the Slytherin he hated, and who hated him by equal proportions, but he turned to Hermione and Kendra, nodding in vehement agreement.

"This one's yours," Kendra said immediately, and the brunette shot her friend a murderous look.

With a sigh, she gave in, "Mr. and Mrs. Potter went into hiding under the Fidelus charm, supposedly with Sirius as their secret keeper. Except they didn't use Sirius, they used Wormtail. The idea was that everyone would expect it to be Sirius and so while everyone went after him, the Potters would be safe.

"Unfortunately, what no one knew, was that Wormtail had already aligned himself with Voldemort."

"That slimy little—" Sirius had jumped up and was halfway to the door before anyone caught him. Both James and Remus landed on top of him, keeping him from moving, though they both appeared just as angry as he was. He struggled against the weight of his friends, wanting more than anything to get his hands on that little rat.

As it became more apparent that Sirius was going to win, Lily, Alice, Frank, and Severus all jumped in front of the door, wands drawn. Regulus stood behind the three boys struggling on the floor, wand pointed directly at them. The teachers were getting to their feet, and so, with a sigh, Kendra stood.

"Don't worry about it," she spoke to the room in general, waving them off. Suddenly, Sirius was suspended in the air by his ankle, his arms bound tightly to his sides, and his mouth clamped shut. "Sirius," Kendra spoke calmly as she approached the boy, "It would not be wise to storm out of this room and commit the murder you were convicted of in the first place." She eyed the rest of the room as she said this, knowing that, although Sirius had been a distraction, most of them were more than eager to rip the rat's head off. "I understand that right now you hate him with everything you possibly could. But you need to stop for a minute, and think. Blame is rarely ever something you can place at the feet of one singular person. And in this case, the blame is partially laid at your feet, at the feet of your friends, and even a little at the feet of those you call your enemies.

"There is a boy out there, somewhere, who idolizes you. And you know it. What drove him to make the choices he did, I don't really know. But I do know, that he was alone, left out, and misguided. And going out there right now and killing him will do nothing. There are choices that you will have to make Sirius. No, I don't like Wormtail, and I don't trust him. But that doesn't mean that he's all that bad. And that doesn't mean that at this very moment he is plotting to kill some of his best friends. What it means is that you will need to tread carefully. Do what you can. Help him if you feel you can. And if you don't, if you can't, know that the little boy that has followed you around, that has idolized you, and done everything to impress you, will be party to your death."

She dropped Sirius then, and turned her back on him. The room was silent, staring at her in a mixture of awe and fear. "Sirius," she spoke much softer now, "I wish as much as you that none of what is written ever happened. But these rash decisions, they will lead to your death."

With her words still ringing in the air, Kendra returned to her seat next to Hermione, closing her eyes and leaning back into the cushions. And for a long time, there was no movement.

Then, slowly, Sirius hauled himself off of the floor and back to his seat. He nodded to Kendra, who had opened her eyes briefly as he sat. The others followed Sirius' lead slowly, each resuming their place on the couches.

No one spoke a word, and Frank didn't move to pick up the book. No one was ready just yet.

"That was some very powerful magic," McGonagall commented finally.

"Not really," Kendra had closed her eyes and leaned back again, "Not much magic at all really."

Her voice had sounded somewhat tired, sad, as though she were drained of all emotion. Hermione reached over and drew the other girl into her embrace.

Confused, and a little worried, Frank picked the up the book once more. He glanced around at the others, not sure if his idea was right. He was given a few hesitant nods, and so, he opened the book once more, and began reading, **"For one glorious hour, Harry had believed that he was leaving the Dursleys at last, because Sirius had offered him a home once his name had been cleared. But the chance had been snatched away from him - Wormtail had escaped before they could take him to the Ministry of Magic, and Sirius had had to flee for his life. Harry had helped him escape on the back of a hippogriff called Buckbeak, and since then, Sirius had been on the run. The home Harry might have had if Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting him all summer. It had been doubly hard to return to the Dursleys knowing that he had so nearly escaped them forever.**

** "Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn't be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather - for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell them that Sirius was innocent."**

Laughter filled the room at this, the tension of before momentarily forgotten.

** "Harry had received two letters from Sirius since he had been back at Privet Drive. Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards), but by large, brightly colored tropical birds. Hedwig had not approved of these flashy intruders; she had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from her water tray before flying off again. Harry, on the other hand, had liked them; they put him in mind of palm trees and white sand, and he hoped that, wherever Sirius was (Sirius never said, in case the letters were intercepted), he was enjoying himself. Somehow, Harry found it hard to imaging Dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight, perhaps that was why Sirius had gone South. Sirius's letters, which were now hidden beneath the highly useful loose floorboards under Harry's bed, sounded cheerful, and in both of them he had reminded Harry to call on him if ever Harry needed to. Well, he needed to right now, all right…**

** "Harry's lamp seemed to grow dimmer as the cold gray light that precedes sunrise slowly crept into the room. Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned gold, and when sounds of movement could be heard from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's room, Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and reread his finished letter.**

_**"Dear Sirius,**_

_** "Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window. **_

_** "Things are the same as usual here. Dudley's diet isn't going too well.**__**My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they'd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. That's a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasn't even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things.**_

_** "I'm okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to. A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward?**_

_** "I'll send this with Hedwig when she gets back; she's off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me.**_

_** "Harry**_

** "Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn't want it to look as though he was too worried. He folded up the parchment and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned. Then he got to his feet, stretched, and opened his wardrobe once more. Without glancing at his reflection he started to get dressed before going down to breakfast."**

"That's the end of the chapter," Frank said, marking his place with his finger. He glanced about the still silent room. They were all quiet, still mostly lost in thought after Kendra's demonstration. Frank, himself, couldn't decide if he were more frightened or awed by the witch in question. Glancing over at her, he saw that, tucked into Hermione's side as she was, the girl looked incredibly young. She was smaller than he'd realized, and quite skinny too. There were several long scars down the girl's cheek and visible just under the hood of her sweater. And it looked almost as though you could break her with a touch. But, at the same time, there was a kind of inner glow that let you know this girl could easily be dangerous.

"Kendra?" Sirius' voice broke through Frank's musings.

"Hmm?" she murmured, shifting slightly so that her face was pointed in his direction.

"Are you okay?" he blurted.

With a sigh, she pushed herself up into a seated position, opening her eyes and meeting Sirius' questioning gaze, "I'm fine, a little tired, a little annoyed, but I'm fine. Now, ask what you wanted to ask originally."

Several eyebrows shot up around the room, Sirius' included. "How did you…?" Kendra just smirked. Realizing it meant that the girl wouldn't answer the question, Sirius asked instead, "What you said earlier, about my death, what did you mean?"

She sighed again, "Arrogance, Sirius, rash decisions, you aren't infallible. There are people that care about you. For them, use your brain. Keep yourself alive, and out of prison."

He nodded solemnly, sinking back thoughtfully again. The others looked from Sirius to Kendra and back, not completely sure what had just happened.

"If we're going to be reading in a circle, I believe it is Regulus' turn," Hermione spoke up, breaking the most recent stalemate.

Frank handed over the book, which was accepted gratefully. He was a little wary of what these books might reveal, but at the same time, was incredibly interested in the same thing. That, and he desperately wanted to end the awkward silences that had been present ever since Sirius lost his cool.

"The next chapter is called, **'The Invitation.'"**

* * *

_A/N: I am aware that Kendra comes across as really powerful in this chapter. There are reasons behind it, and she's not actually all powerful, but until things are explained she will kind of seem that way._**  
**

_Also, not really sure how many of you actually read these. But for those of you who do: Tomorrow is the First of November, for those of you who know what that means, I'm sure you know where this is going. Tomorrow starts of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). Because of that, I don't know if there will be updates. We'll see as the month goes on._

_Thanks for your time._

_=] Kiko_


	4. A Third Chapter

_Disclaimer: I own nothing in bold type._

* * *

A Third Chapter

** "By the time Harry arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. None of them looked up as he entered or sat down."**

"Why do they ignore him?" Lily wanted to know.

"They aren't very nice people," Hermione said, glancing over at Kendra as she spoke.

The other girl looked thoughtful for a moment, before sighing and nodding at Hermione, "Yeah, it's probably for the best. Though I was hoping to wait a little bit longer."

Hermione smiled sympathetically, reminding her friend, "If wishes were fishes…"

"We wouldn't have to eat mushrooms," Kendra grumbled.

"What's for the best?" James asked before anything else could be said between the two.

"You remember how we said that there would be some things that happened in the books that didn't happen in real life?" Kendra looked around the room, waiting for everyone's nods of acknowledgement before continuing, "The biggest discrepancy between book and real life is the fact that Harry was adopted."

"I don't understand," Lily spoke immediately, "Why wouldn't that be in the book?"

"A couple reasons, but let me explain. It's a little complicated," again, Kendra paused for an acknowledgement before continuing. "Are any of you aware of 'Muggle Magic'?"

"Wouldn't Muggle magic just be muggle-borns?" Frank asked.

"And what, exactly, does this have to do with the adoption of Lily's son?" Severus snarked.

"I'm getting there, it's complicated. And no, Frank, to answer your question, it's not muggle-borns. Muggle Magic is actually a strong connection to the universe and its properties. Essentially, it allows a muggle to tread between the planes of life and death. Something that witches and wizards cannot do, even with the aid of spells.

"Within the next few years, Lord Moldy will hear of a man, currently living in the America's I believe, that is rather famous for such abilities. He is said to possess a sixth-sense that allows him to 'read' the world around him.

"Now, Moldy may not like muggles, but he knows power when he sees it, or hears of it in this case. And something that no witch or wizard is capable of doing will draw his attention. So, Moldy, being Moldy decided on an experiment. He would create a child, teach them the Dark Arts, mould them into the perfect little protégé, his well, not replacement, but right hand."

She paused, looking about the room. They were all following her story, some with looks of dawning realization. "A woman was chosen, from his most trusted of followers, after all, it wouldn't do for some common woman to carry a child so important."

"It's you, isn't it?" Lily interrupted suddenly. Kendra eyed her for a long moment before nodding solemnly. "And your mother?" she asked, "Who is it?"

"Moldy Shorts, his most loyal follower, who would you consider that to be?" Kendra asked.

"Bellatrix," Regulus stated immediately.

"Yes," Kendra nodded to him, "I'm not entirely sure how it worked, her getting my father to go along with it and everything. But he figured it out eventually, he told them that his gift was something that didn't always manifest itself in every generation, and that they would have to wait until my ninth birthday to learn if I would receive it."

"Smart," Sirius nodded in acknowledgement, "But what happens when you turn nine and nothing happens? They can just have another kid."

"See, that was the genius of it," she grinned, "My father died two years after I was born." There were several gasps at her grin the matter-of-fact way she spoke. "So until I turned nine, I was taught. Actually, trained is more accurate, in everything dark. Anything they could think of that I might need to help take over the world."

There were several more gasps. "So, you're going to kill us?" James asked, his voice was surprisingly calm; he narrowed his eyes at the girl as he wrapped an arm around Lily.

Kendra's eyes widened, but it was Hermione that spoke first, "I'm sorry, what? We come here to help you, and you have the gall to accuse Kendra of _that_?"

"'Mione!" Kendra jumped up, grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging her back to the couch, "It's, well, it's a valid question."

"Be that as it may," McGonagall's voice was harsh, and she leveled such a glare at James that he shrunk down quite a bit, "I would remind you, Mr. Potter, not to accuse members of this room." She continued to eye him until he nodded sullenly in reluctant agreement.

"Before I continue, do you know anything of soul bonds?" Kendra asked.

"You mean when two souls gravitate towards each other and are eventually joined upon romantic recognition?" Alice asked.

"Essentially, yes," Kendra nodded to him, "Oddly enough, though it is most commonly known as a romantic connection, it is also rarest to see soul bonds of such a nature. Much more common, are familial bonds. Harry and I have one such bond; he's my brother.

"Because of him, because of his nature, and because of everything Mr. and Mrs. Potter did for him before their deaths," she nodded to James and Lily, "I knew what they were teaching me to do was wrong. So I kept my abilities secret; and on my ninth birthday I was deemed a failed experiment and scheduled for termination." There were gasps about the room and Kendra smiled grimly, "Luckily, rather than do it herself, Bellatrix commissioned a muggle killer to perform the deed for her. Harry panicked, and somehow managed to apparate directly into Hogwarts. The office he wound up in was, thankfully, occupied, and she came with him to get me.

"When they got to me, Harry, being the impulsive idiot that he is, jumped on the back of the man while he still held the knife. Harry was injured before anyone really had time to react. But the professor was able to subdue him pretty quickly. Because I was so badly hurt, I wouldn't have made the trip back to Hogwarts alive. So we were taken to a small muggle hospital not far away."

She grinned shyly at the expressions around her; they varied from pained acceptance to downright horror. Reaching over, Kendra took Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze. Honestly, she wasn't sure who she was really reassuring, but didn't hesitate to continue her tale, "I don't know how much any of you know about muggle medicine, but when you lose a lot of blood in the muggle world, they don't have replenishing potions. So, they will give you blood taken from another person."

As one, all of the purebloods, with the exception of Sirius, made sounds of disgust. Grinning, Kendra turned to Hermione, only to groan at the smirk on her face. The smirk widened, and Hermione crooked her fingers at Kendra. Muttering under her breath, Kendra dug two of the mushrooms she'd won from Hermione back out of her pocket.

As they were handed from one girl to the other, Alice asked, "What was the bet?"

"I believed that Sirius would take that particular revelation better than he did when we first told him," Hermione explained, "Kendra believed that Regulus would have less trouble with it. I was right on both accounts."

She smirked at Kendra, who just made a face back at her before turning to Sirius. "You couldn't have overreacted just a little?" she implored him.

"What do I get out of it?" Sirius asked.

Kendra looked thoughtful for a moment. "Insider knowledge," she decided finally.

She'd expected a response from Sirius. Instead, he leapt to his feet, "Muggles share blood? How can they stand it? It's more disgusting than Prongs' face in the morning!"

"Hey!" James' indignant cry cut off any more of the rant Sirius had commenced upon, "I'll have you know that my face is never disgusting."

"Personally, I would have to disagree," Severus grumbled to himself. Thankfully, only Hermione heard him, and she chuckled while shaking her head at Kendra.

Pouting, the girl turned back to her co-conspirator, "Thanks anyways Sirius."

"I still get my insider knowledge, right?" Sirius asked as he sat back down.

Kendra nodded solemnly, but didn't extrapolate, instead returning to her tale, "During the Great War, muggles' World War II, many wizards considered it their duty to help, since it had been Grindelwald that started the war. A lot of those wizards and witches entered the medical and research fields. A spell was created to allow any blood to be used by or for any muggle.

"See, muggles have something called blood type. It's how they decide if taking blood from one person and giving it to another will be safe. Harry and I have the same blood type. Unfortunately, it's also the rarest. And the hospital we were at… it didn't have any. We were lucky though, Mum knew the blood spell; she gave us her blood."

"Please explain, what does this have to do with adoption?" Severus asked, he was getting impatient now. This information was all well and good, but he wanted to get to the point.

"I think Mum forgot. The blood spell was created from the basis of an old adoption ritual rarely used anymore. Because of that, all that was needed was her blood, a few words, and…" she shrugged, not really sure how to finish her story.

There was silence in the room as they absorbed Kendra's words.

"I just want to make sure I understand," Lily spoke up eventually. She waited for Kendra's nod, then summarized, "You were supposed to be killed on your ninth birthday, but Harry apparated into Hogwarts, which is supposed to be impossible, found a professor and brought her to you, you both ended up in the hospital and were adopted through the accidental activation of an old ritual."

"That sums it up nicely," Kendra nodded.

"Who was the professor?" Frank asked.

Hermione and Kendra exchanged a glance that made the students groan, they knew that look by now, it meant they wouldn't be getting an answer. Both young women chuckled at the noise, and Kendra leaned back into the couch with a grin, "If you get it right, we'll tell you."

The Marauders immediately joined heads. Lily leaned over to join Frank and Alice, waving Severus over to join them as she did. However, less than a minute had passed before Regulus spoke above the others whispers, "Professor McGonagall."

Every occupant of the room stared at him.

"How?" Hermione finally asked. Kendra still appeared completely stunned next to her.

"Am I right?" Regulus asked. When Kendra nodded, he explained, "You did call her mother earlier."

Feeling a little silly, Kendra turned to her companion, "I think we should give him some mushrooms." Hermione nodded seriously, fishing a bag from her pocket. She handed several mushrooms over to Regulus, explaining how they used them.

While Hermione, and the others were absorbed in the mushrooms, Kendra turned hesitantly to Minerva. The formidable Scottish witch was staring quite openly at the young woman beside her. Kendra noted absently that Dumbledore was doing something similar behind her.

"I am your mother?" Minerva finally asked.

Kendra hesitated briefly before nodding, grateful for this semi-private moment, "Is that alright?"

Minerva nodded slowly, "It will take some getting used to."

"Can, um… Would it be okay if I still call you Mum?" Kendra bit her lip nervously, "I mean, I won't if you don't want. It's just, weird, y'know. So I might, I might slip."

Her voice faded some at the end of her question, and her gaze lowered uncomfortably. Gentle fingers took hold of her chin not a second later, tilting her face up to meet identical emerald eyes. "It will take some time for me to become accustomed to it," Minerva began, "But if I am your mother, I refuse to pretend otherwise."

A shy smile spread across Kendra's face. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning back into her own seat and breaking contact. She stole a cautious glance at Dumbledore before turning her gaze upon the crowd gathered at the other end of the room.

Soon after, the little gathering dispersed, and Hermione re-took her seat next to Kendra. "Is everything alright?" she asked quietly and Kendra nodded to her with a smile.

Hermione grinned back, and then turned to Regulus, who was smirking as he picked the book up once more, **"Uncle Vernon's large red face was hidden behind the morning's Daily Mail, and Aunt Petunia was cutting a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horse-like teeth."**

"Harry doesn't live with them, then?" Lily interrupted suddenly.

Hermione and Kendra exchanged a glance, they'd forgotten about explaining Harry's home-life. "He sort of lives there," Kendra explained, "Over summer. He usually has a meal with them in the morning, might do a little outside once or twice a week. But he spends most of the day at home."

"Why?" James asked.

"He didn't when we were little. But after Harry started school, someone started paying attention, checking on him finally. So we had to make it look like Harry still lived with the Dursleys," Kendra explained.

"Do you mean the Headmaster?" Lily asked uncertainly. Kendra nodded curtly and turned sharply back to Regulus, refusing to answer any more questions. The other occupants of the room exchanged several glances. Things didn't appear to be quite as cut and dry with the future Headmaster as one would expect.

Obeying the silent wish of the raven-haired time traveler, Regulus resumed reading, **"Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. This was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself. When Aunt Petunia put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudley's plate with a tremulous 'There you are, Diddy darling—'"**

As one, the room burst into laughter.

"Diddy!" Sirius crowed, doubled over in laughter, "She calls him Diddy!"

Severus brought his own chuckles under control quickly, "Lily, I take back anything I have ever said to you about poor choice of nicknames. You have never come up with something so atrocious."

Fighting off her own laughter, Lily poked her tongue out at Severus. The Slytherin's comment, however, had caused James to sober up immediately, and he now eyed the other student sourly.

**"Dudley glowered at her. His life had taken a most unpleasant turn since he had come home for the summer with his end-of-year report.**

** "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had managed to find excuses for his bad 4marks as usual: Aunt Petunia always insisted that Dudley was a very gifted boy whose teachers didn't understand him, while Uncle Vernon maintained that 'he didn't want some swotty little nancy boy for a son anyway.' They also skated over the accusations of bullying in the report – 'He's a boisterous little boy, but he wouldn't hurt a fly!' Aunt Petunia had said tearfully. **(Glances and smiles were exchanged, but no one commented. They'd realized already that it would be much too repetitive.)

** "However, at the bottom of the report there were a few well-chosen comments from the school nurse that not even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could explain away. No matter how much Aunt Petunia wailed that Dudley was big-boned, and that his poundage was really puppy fat, and that he was a growing boy who needed plenty of food, the fact remained that the school outfitters didn't stock knickerbockers big enough for him anymore. The school nurse had seen what Aunt Petunia's eyes - so sharp when it came to spotting fingerprints on her gleaming walls, and in observing the comings and goings of the neighbors - simply refused to see: that far from needing extra nourishment, Dudley had reached roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale."**

"Somehow I don't think she was quite so descriptive," Frank commented blandly.

"Of course not Frankie," his girlfriend grinned, "That's all Evans inherited imagination." Lily smiled shyly at her friend when Alice turned to her with a beaming smile.

** "So - after many tantrums, after arguments that shook Harry's bedroom floor, and many tears from Aunt Petunia - the new regime had begun. The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smeltings school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudley's favorite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Uncle Vernon called 'rabbit food.' To make Dudley feel better about it all, Aunt Petunia had insisted that the whole family follow the diet too. She now passed a grapefruit quarter to Harry. He noticed that it was a lot smaller than Dudley's. Aunt Petunia seemed to feel that the best way to keep up Dudley's morale was to make sure that he did, at least, get more to eat than Harry."**

"That's not right!" Lily insisted.

"Though I supposed that explains his weight problem," Remus mused.

"What do you mean by that?" James turned to Remus, hoping to head off Lily, whose mouth had dropped open at the statement.

"If she's showing Dudley that much preference with a piece of grapefruit, then she must have been doing it for his entire life. That kind of behaviour can't be new, Harry isn't surprised by it at all."

"Is that true?" Lily turned to Kendra.

The time traveler shrugged, "Not really. It was when they were kids, but Harry wasn't really around all that much. So maybe, I dunno. It never really mattered."

"You'll feed him, right Professor?" James asked.

"I daresay," McGonagall agreed.

** "But Aunt Petunia didn't know what was hidden under the loose floorboard upstairs. She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment he had got wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help, and they had risen to the occasion magnificently. Hedwig had returned from Hermione's house with a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks. (Hermione's parents were dentists.)"**

"Dentists?" James asked.

"They look after muggle's teeth," Hermione explained quickly.

**"Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. (Harry hadn't touched these; **("Smart.")** he had had too much experience of Hagrid's cooking.) Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies. Poor Errol, who was elderly and feeble, had needed a full five days to recover from the journey. And then on Harry's birthday (which the Dursleys had completely ignored)"**

"They ignore his birthday!" Lily wailed.

"Lils, relax," Alice grabbed her friend's shoulder, "I doubt it really matters to him. Besides, I'm sure Kendra and the professor did something nice."

At her comment, Lily turned beseeching eyes upon Kendra. Wide-eyed, Kendra turned to Hermione, "What did we do that year?"

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. "I don't remember for certain," she began carefully, "but I think that might be the year we went flying."

"Oh!" Kendra cheered, "I remember now. There was a storm that night. It got really, really windy, but 'Mione promised Harry she'd go up on a broom with him on his birthday. And Harry wasn't going to let it go. So they went up, got blown off course, crashed into a tree and got lost coming back. Ooh, Mum was livid." She shuddered.

"I can imagine," Minerva said dryly and laughter bounced around the room.

** "—he had received four superb birthday cakes, one each from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Sirius. Harry still had two of them left, and so, looking forward to a real breakfast when he got back upstairs, he ate his grapefruit without complaint. **

** "Uncle Vernon laid aside his paper with a deep sniff of disapproval and looked down at his own grapefruit quarter.**

**"'****Is this it?' he said grumpily to Aunt Petunia.**

** "Aunt Petunia gave him a severe look, and then nodded pointedly at Dudley, who had already finished his own grapefruit quarter and was eyeing Harry's with a very sour look in his piggy little eyes."**

"He really does compare him to a pig often," Hermione mused.

"I wonder why," Severus drawled.

** "Uncle Vernon gave a great sigh, which ruffled his large, bushy mustache, and picked up his spoon.**

** "The doorbell rang. Uncle Vernon heaved himself out of his chair and set off down the hall. Quick as a flash,—"**

"Quick?" James' mouth hung open, "That lump can do anything quick?"

"I'd imagine it's the motivation of food," Frank drawled, "Sort of like the way that you would fall asleep in History of Magic, and were impossible to wake up until someone mentioned lunch."

James glared over at his friend, but the laughter from the others kept him from being able to argue his innocence.

** "—while his mother was occupied with the kettle, Dudley stole the rest of Uncle Vernon's grapefruit.**

** "Harry heard talking at the door, and someone laughing, and Uncle Vernon answering curtly. Then the front door closed, and the sound of ripping paper came from the hall. **

** "Aunt Petunia set the teapot down on the table and looked curiously around to see where Uncle Vernon had got to. She didn't have to wait long to find out; after about a minute, he was back. He looked livid.**

** "**'**You,' he barked at Harry. 'In the living room. Now.'**

** "Bewildered, wondering what on earth he was supposed to have done this time, Harry got up and followed Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the next room. Uncle Vernon closed the door sharply behind both of them.**

**"'****So,' he said, marching over to the fireplace and turning to face Harry as though he were about to pronounce him under arrest. **_**'So.'**_

**"Harry would have dearly loved to have said, 'So what?'"**

"Brilliant!" Sirius cheered.

"Somehow, I don't think that would go over very well," Remus reminded his friend.

"Probably not," Sirius agreed, "but it would still be interesting."

** "—but he didn't feel that Uncle Vernon's temper should be tested this early in the morning, **(Sirius pouted)** especially when it was already under severe strain from lack of food. He therefore settled for looking politely puzzled.**

**"'****This just arrived,' said Uncle Vernon. He brandished a piece of purple writing paper at Harry. 'A letter. About you.' **

** "Harry's confusion increased. Who would be writing to Uncle Vernon about him? Who did he know who sent letters by the postman?"**

"Hermione might," Regulus interrupted himself suddenly.

Every eye turned to Hermione at his statement. "I did send letters the muggle way occasionally," Hermione agreed, "but never to the Dursleys."

"Where would you send your letters?" Lily asked.

"To the Professor's place, of course," Alice reminded her, "We were already told that Hermione was there for Harry's birthday."

"Where do you live, Professor?" James asked.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him, "I do not think that is any of your business Mr. Potter."

James opened his mouth argue his right to know, only to be cut of, unintentionally by Severus, "I wonder how common knowledge of Harry's relationship to Professor McGonagall is."

James shot a dirty look at the hook-nosed boy, but didn't argue, finding himself grudgingly curious as well.

"Hermione of course," Kendra nodded to her companion, "Sirius and Neville. They were the only ones that knew about Harry and mine's relationship. I went by the name Douglass when we were in school, it was too dangerous to do otherwise."

"Who is Neville?" Frank asked.

Kendra and Hermione exchanged a grin at the irony, "You'll find out."

"Why doesn't Ron know?" Alice wondered, sharing a glance with her boyfriend at the odd answer he had received.

Kendra snorted, "Have you ever met Mrs. Weasley?"

"Can't say I have," Alice shrugged, "Why?"

Ignoring the open-mouthed expression of shock on Kendra's face, Hermione explained, "Mrs. Weasley is incredibly adept at extracting information from her children. The secret wouldn't have been safe with Ron. Although, Kendra doesn't like him very much anyways."

"He's annoying, lazy, and rude. Why should I like him?" Kendra groused.

** "Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, then looked down at the letter and began to read aloud:**

** "**_**Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,**_

_** "We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron.**_

_** "As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. **_

_** "I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have Harry stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school. **_

_** "It would be best for Harry to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is.**_

_** "Hoping to see Harry soon,**_

_** "Yours sincerely,**_

_** "Molly Weasley**_

_** "P.S. I do hope we've put enough stamps on."**_

"Oh that isn't going to end well," Lily murmured. The room had, surprisingly remained silent during the reading of the letter, apart from James breaking out into another seated victory dance.

"Where were the seats?" Regulus asked. He was met by another of the 'we're not telling' grins and groaned.

"Somehow, I don't think calling wizarding post 'normal' will go over particularly well," Severus commented blandly. He received several looks, and for a moment it appeared that a fight was about to break out in the room, until the students all released a simultaneous groan as they realized the truth of his statement.

**"Uncle Vernon finished reading, put his hand back into his breast pocket, and drew out something else.**

**"'****Look at this,' he growled.**

** "He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley's letter had come, and Harry had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys' address in minute writing."**

Laughter rumbled the room.

"It's not going to end well," Alice laughed, "But I for one, am glad she did that."

** "'She did put enough stamps on, then,' said Harry, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasley's was a mistake anyone could make."**

"It is though," Remus agreed, "At least in the wizarding world." There were a couple nods in agreement, but the laughter, which hadn't died down completely since the revelation of Mrs. Weasley's letter decoration, was still too much to have a real conversation.

**"His uncle's eyes flashed.**

**"'****The postman noticed,' he said through gritted teeth. 'Very interested to know where this letter came from, he was. That's why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was **_**funny.**_**'**

"It was funny," Hermione agreed, "Besides, all he had to do was laugh about it and no one would think anything more of it."

"Petunia's reaction to anything that could be magical has always been similar," Lily sighed, "She makes it much worse than it really is. I would be more surprised if her attitude had changed in the future."

** "Harry didn't say anything. Other people might not understand why Uncle Vernon was making a fuss about too many stamps, but Harry had lived with the Dursleys too long not to know how touchy they were about anything even slightly out of the ordinary. Their worst fear was that someone would find out that they were connected (however distantly) with people like Mrs. Weasley.**

** "Uncle Vernon was still glaring at Harry, who tried to keep his expression neutral. If he didn't do or say anything stupid, he might just be in for the treat of a lifetime. He waited for Uncle Vernon to say something, but he merely continued to glare. Harry decided to break the silence.**

**"'****So - can I go then?' he asked.**

"Yes, yes, please say yes," James pleaded. He crossed his fingers and scrunched his eyes shut.

** "A slight spasm crossed Uncle Vernon's large purple face. The mustache bristled. Harry thought he knew what was going on behind the mustache: a furious battle as two of Uncle Vernon's most fundamental instincts came into conflict. Allowing Harry to go would make Harry happy, something Uncle Vernon had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, allowing Harry to disappear to the Weasleys' for the rest of the summer would get rid of him two weeks earlier than anyone could have hoped, and Uncle Vernon hated having Harry in the house. To give himself thinking time, it seemed, he looked down at Mrs. Weasley's letter again.**

**"'****Who is this woman?' he said, staring at the signature with distaste.**

**"'****You've seen her,' said Harry. 'She's my friend Ron's mother, she was meeting him off the Hog - off the school train at the end of last term.'"**

"You know," Kendra cut in suddenly, "I think she actually introduced herself to him at some point."

"Did she?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Kendra was nodding now, her eyes distant, "I don't remember when, but I'm positive she did."

** "He had almost said 'Hogwarts Express,' and that was a sure way to get his uncle's temper up. Nobody ever mentioned the name of Harry's school aloud in the Dursley household. **

** "Uncle Vernon screwed up his enormous face as though trying to remember something very unpleasant.**

**"'****Dumpy sort of woman?'"**

"Now that is rude!" Lily cried.

"It doesn't get much better," Regulus commented, reading the rest of the sentence to her specifically, **"—he growled finally. ** **'****Load of children with red hair?'"**

"Lily," Alice spoke slowly, and waited for her friend to look at her before continuing, "I am very, truly sorry that you have to be related to that."

** "Harry frowned. He thought it was a bit rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone 'dumpy,' when his own son, Dudley, had finally achieved what he'd been threatening to do since the age of three, and become wider than he was tall. **("Good," came faintly from Lily's direction.)

** "Uncle Vernon was perusing the letter again.**

**"'****Quidditch,' he muttered under his breath. '**_**Quidditch**_** - what is this rubbish?'**

** "Harry felt a second stab of annoyance.**

**"'****It's a sport,' he said shortly. 'Played on broom—'**

**"'****All right, all right!' said Uncle Vernon loudly. Harry saw, with some satisfaction, that his uncle looked vaguely panicky. **(Sirius chuckled darkly)** Apparently his nerves couldn't stand the sound of the word 'broomsticks' in his living room. He took refuge in perusing the letter again. Harry saw his lips form the words 'send us your answer… in the normal way.' He scowled.**

**"'****What does she mean, 'the normal way'?' he spat.**

**"'****Normal for us,' said Harry, and before his uncle could stop him, he added, 'you know, owl post. That's what's normal for wizards.'"**

"Oh Harry," Lily sighed.

"I dunno, Lils," James defended, "The great walrus does seem to need someone to knock some sense into him."

"I know, I just don't think Harry's the safest choice," Lily sighed. James found he couldn't argue with that, instead he wrapped an arm around her, giving a gentle squeeze.

** "Uncle Vernon looked as outraged as if Harry had just uttered a disgusting swearword. Shaking with anger, he shot a nervous look through the window, as though expecting to see some of the neighbors with their ears pressed against the glass.**

**"'****How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof?' he hissed, his face now a rich plum color. 'You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful back –'**

**"'****Only after Dudley finished with them,' said Harry coldly, and indeed, he was dressed in a sweatshirt so large for him that he had had to roll back the sleeves five times so as to be able to use his hands, and which fell past the knees of his extremely baggy jeans.**

** "'I will not be spoken to like that!' said Uncle Vernon, trembling with rage."**

"Oh Merlin," Kendra laughed, doubling over and clutching her stomach.

"I don't see what's so funny about him threatening my son," Lily glared at the girl.

Still chuckling, Kendra arched an eyebrow at the redhead, "Have you ever seen Mum when she's angry?" There were several shudders throughout the room, no matter the time or year, Minerva McGonagall's temper was famous. Grinning, Kendra glanced at her mother, who, by the expression on her face, knew exactly where this was going. "Mum doesn't… How did she put it? Suffer fools gladly."

The students were silent for a moment as they thought over what Kendra had said. Then there was raucous laughter and the Marauders were congratulating and thanking Minerva for a job well done.

"I would very much like a repeat of the opportunity sometime in the future," Minerva whispered to Kendra.

Kendra grinned back, "I feel almost bad for the Dursleys."

As the group calmed back down, Regulus picked up the book once more, **"But Harry wasn't going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys' stupid rules. He wasn't following Dudley's diet, and he wasn't going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, 'Okay, I can't see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I've got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know - my godfather.'**

** "He had done it, he had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon's face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.**

**"'****You're - you're writing to him, are you?' said Uncle Vernon, in a would-be calm voice - but Harry had seen the pupils of his tiny eyes contract with sudden fear.**

**"'****Well - yeah,' said Harry, casually. 'It's been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesn't he might start thinking something's wrong.'**

** "He stopped there—" **

Sirius held up a hand to stop his brother, "Sorry Reg, but, I have to know. Did that actually happen?"

He turned pleading eyes on Kendra and Hermione. The girls exchanged a look, but Hermione shook her head. "The Dursleys had actually been on vacation until the a couple days before we all got our invitations. I had been staying with Kendra for the weekend and actually got to be there when Minerva told Mr. Dursley that the Weasleys would be there the next day to collect Harry. It was quite the show."

Sirius stared oddly at Hermione for a little while. "I can't decide if I'm glad to get the chance to read about Harry handling it on his own, or disappointed not to get to see Minnie deal with it herself."

"Call me Minnie again, Mr. Black, and you won't need to ask that question."

Sirius gulped, nodded once, and sat back with a gesture to Regulus to keep reading.

"—**to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon's thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn't go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle's mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then –**

**"'****Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy… this stupid… this World Cup thing. **(James let out a cheer.)** You write and tell these - these Weasleys they're to pick you up, mind. I haven't got time to go dropping you off all over the country. And you can spend the rest of the summer there. And you can tell your - your godfather… tell him… tell him you're going.'**

**"'****Okay then,' said Harry brightly.**

** "He turned and walked toward the living room door, fighting the urge to jump into the air and whoop. He was going… he was going to the Weasleys', he was going to watch the Quidditch World Cup!**

** "Outside in the hall he nearly ran into Dudley, who had been lurking behind the door, clearly hoping to overhear Harry being told off. He looked shocked to see the broad grin on Harry's face.**

**"'****That was an **_**excellent**_** breakfast, wasn't it?' said Harry. 'I feel really full, don't you?'"**

"Oh Lily, your son is brilliant," Alice laughed.

"Hey, he's my son too," James glared at Alice, looking especially affronted.

Alice shrugged, "He get's his humour from Lily. Thank Merlin."

James' mouth hung open as he tried to come up with something to say to that. Chuckling, Remus leaned over to slap him on the back, "She's got you there mate."

Regulus glanced at Severus, wondering if he had anything to add, after all, he knew both the boys parents and had been silent for a while. The look on Severus' face, however, assured Regulus that he would not be participating in this conversation. Looking back to the book quickly, he read on,** "Laughing at the astonished look on Dudley's face, Harry took the stairs three at a time, and hurled himself back into his bedroom. **

** "The first thing he saw was that Hedwig was back. She was sitting in her cage, staring at Harry with her enormous amber eyes, and clicking her beak in the way that meant she was annoyed about something. Exactly what was annoying her became apparent almost at once.**

**"'****OUCH!'"**

"OI!" Remus cried, bringing his hands up to cover his ringing ears.

"Sorry," Regulus shrugged a little uncertainly, "It was in all capitals. My immediate reaction was to shout."

"A little warning next time?"

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you."

**"—said Harry as what appeared to be a small, gray, feathery tennis ball collided with the side of his head. Harry massaged the spot furiously, looking up to see what had hit him, and saw a minute owl, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand, whizzing excitedly around the room like a loose firework. Harry then realized that the owl had dropped a letter at his feet. Harry bent down, recognized Ron's handwriting, then tore open the envelope. Inside was a hastily scribbled note.**

** "**_**Harry - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum's writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don't know how fast Muggle post is. Thought I'd send this with Pig anyway.**_**"**

"Pig?" several voices echoed.

Hermione and Kendra exchanged a glance, and Kendra cringed a little. Taking that as her queue, Hermione explained, "After faking his death, Wormtail disguised himself as a rat for twelve years. He ended up in the Weasley family, as Ron's pet rat Scabbers. Sirius felt a bit guilty about costing Ron his rat and so got him an owl."

"So they named his Pig?" Frank asked quickly, hoping to keep the subject of Peter Pettigrew's eventual betrayal from being re-opened.

With a grin, Kendra simply gestured to the book in Regulus' hand, **"Harry stared at the word 'Pig,' then looked up at the tiny owl now zooming around the light fixture on the ceiling. He had never seen anything that looked less like a pig. **(Laughter greeted this statement.)** Maybe he couldn't read Ron's writing. He went back to the letter:**

** "**_**We're coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it's better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday anyway.**_**"**

"I like the way he thinks," James nodded to the book.

**"**_**Hermione's arriving this afternoon. Percy's started work - the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Don't mention anything about Abroad while you're here unless you want the pants bored off you.**_

**"**_**See you soon –Ron**_**"**

"Was there a particular reason you arrived early?" Severus asked, making several people jerk around in surprise. Apparently, they'd forgotten he was in the room.

Hermione shrugged, "No, not really. Kendra was actually there with me. It's just easier to go from one wizarding house to the next."

"I thought no one knew about Kendra being related to Professor McGonagall," Regulus said as Severus nodded.

"They didn't," Kendra assured, "As I said, I went by the name Douglass at school. But I never lied about being a half-blood, and most people assumed, rightly so, I might add, that my mother was the witch and I had taken my father's name. It was no secret that Harry and I knew each other from the moment we boarded the train, so we told people that we had attended the same primary school and left it at that. And since Hermione and I became good friends early on most people assumed that she would be at my house during break."

"It's not as though that wasn't true," Hermione pointed out.

"No, but everyone assumed that your parents rejected you upon learning that you were a witch." Hermione's eyes widened in shock, and she stared at her friend. "You didn't know that?" Kendra asked, her own eyes widening in surprise when Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry. I always thought you knew but just… ignored it," her voice trailed off as she realized the horror on Hermione's face for what it truly was. "'Mione," she whispered.

But Hermione shook her head, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as the first sob ripped from her.

"'Mione!" Kendra cried softly, hurrying to wrap her friend in a tight embrace.

"Oooh," Hermione moaned into her shoulder, "Why didn't I think of that? How could I have overlooked it? I could have just left them." She cried harder, words dissolving as her sobs grew.

Kendra bit her lip hard, rocking her friend as she tried desperately to think of something to say. As the older girl's sobs calmed slightly, Kendra whispered, "Hermione, you made the right choice. It wasn't their war, and they wouldn't have understood. They wouldn't have wanted you fighting it, and if you hadn't come back, they wouldn't have been able to grieve properly. They wouldn't have known. No one would have told them Hermione." She paused a moment to meet unsure brown eyes, "It's better this way. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it is."

A single tear tracked down Hermione's cheek, and Kendra wiped it away. Leaning in, she kissed the other girl's cheek, before tucking her head into the crook of Hermione's neck. It gave the other girl a chance to compose herself without having Kendra stare at her, but still provided the comfort of physical contact.

"Er, not to be callous or anything, but are they going to explain what's going on to the rest of us?" Sirius hissed.

"Sirius Black!" Lily shrieked in a whisper, "That question is the very definition of callous!"

"I didn't mean—"

"Stuff it mate," Remus interrupted him sharply, "She's right, and you know it. What's in Merlin's name were you thinking? Hermione is grieving, I would think you, of all people, would know what a grieving person looks like. If we need to know, they'll tell us, if not then we don't need to know."

Sirius certainly looked chastised, it didn't hurt that he was currently on the receiving end of several scathing looks from his companions as well.

They were shocked when McGonagall rose from her seat to kneel before the still crying girl. She took Hermione's face in her hands, gently caressing the girl's cheek as she spoke too softly for the others to hear.

"Hermione," she waited until the girl was giving her full attention before continuing, "It would not have mattered to Voldemort if your parents had disowned you. He would still have used them, murdered them or tortured them for information about you, or perhaps even forced you to take part in their murder. However you chose to protect your parents, it was for the best."

It took a few minutes more for Hermione to calm down. When she did, she took the hand Minerva still laid against her cheek, and gave it a squeeze, "Thank you." She directed her gratitude towards both mother and daughter. Minerva nodded and gave Hermione's hand a slight squeeze in response before moving back to her own seat. Kendra squeezed Hermione a little tighter as well, but refused to move away, instead burrowing further into her friend.

Looking to the rest of the room, Hermione said, "Thank you for waiting, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to finish the chapter."

Regulus eyed her briefly, as though to ensure to himself that she was indeed alright, before picking up the book once more, **"****'****Calm down!' Harry said as the small owl flew low over his head, twittering madly with what Harry could only assume was pride at having delivered the letter to the right person."**

There were several chuckles at the image of the excitable bird.

"I've always wondered, how do owls always know just where to go when delivering a letter?" Lily asked.

"Magic, Lils," James chuckled, bumping her shoulder affectionately. She stuck her tongue out at him, shoving him back lightly.

"An excellent question, Ms. Evans," Dumbledore complimented, and both Head Boy and Girl scrambled to slightly more dignified positions at the reminder of the Headmaster's presence. "Although, as with most things, it is slightly more complicated than Mr. Potter would lead us to believe, his answer is effectually correct. The owls of the magical world are of a special breed, and do actually posses an amount of magic. I believe that they are able to essentially sense a person's magic and use that to direct them. Though," he turned to the time travelers, "you may be able to answer that question more effectually than I."

Hermione shrugged, it was something she'd been curious about as well, but unfortunately hadn't had the time research in between life threatening events.

"Sounds about right to me," Kendra mumbled. She had made herself comfortable and was now on the verge of falling asleep. Merlin it had been a long couple of days.

**"'Come here, I need you to take my answer back!'**

** "The owl fluttered down on top of Hedwig's cage. Hedwig looked coldly up at it, as though daring it to try and come any closer. Harry seized his eagle-feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and wrote:**

** "**_**Ron, it's all okay, the Muggles say I can come. See you five o'clock tomorrow. Can't wait. – Harry**_

** "He folded this note up very small, and with immense difficulty, tied it to the tiny owl's leg as it hopped on the spot with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owl was off again; it zoomed out of the window and out of sight. **

** "Harry turned to Hedwig.**

** "****'****Feeling up to a long journey?' he asked her.**

** "Hedwig hooted in a dignified sort of a way.**

** "****'****Can you take this to Sirius for me?' he said, picking up his letter. 'Hang on… I just want to finish it.'**

** "He unfolded the parchment and hastily added a postscript.**

** "**_**If you want to contact me, I'll be at my friend Ron Weasley's for the rest of the summer. His dad's got us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup!**_**"**

"Bet that made me jealous," Sirius grumbled.

** "The letter finished, he tied it to Hedwig's leg; she kept unusually still, as though determined to show him how a real post owl should behave.**

** "****'****I'll be at Ron's when you get back, all right?' Harry told her.**

** "She nipped his finger affectionately, then, with a soft swooshing noise, spread her enormous wings and soared out of the open window. **

** "Harry watched her out of sight, then crawled under his bed, wrenched up the loose floorboard, and pulled out a large chunk of birthday cake. He sat there on the floor eating it, savoring the happiness that was flooding through him. He had cake, and Dudley had nothing but grapefruit; it was a bright summer's day, he would be leaving Privet Drive tomorrow, his scar felt perfectly normal again, and he was going to watch the Quidditch World Cup. It was hard, just now, to feel worried about anything – even **The Dark Lord." Regulus closed the book, passing it over to Severus. "Well that certainly was an interesting chapter," his voice was uncomfortably chipper and upbeat, the looks the others had given him when he chose not to say "Voldemort" had him a little uncomfortable.

Sirius snorted, "If that's your definition of interesting, little brother, I refuse to recognize that we are related." His fellow Marauders snorted, having first hand experience with Sirius' version of interesting. Regulus shot his brother a grateful look.

Not wanting to participate in any more banter, Severus opened the book and sighed, "**Back to the Burrow.**"

* * *

_Alright, so there was a bit of an explanation there. Questions, comments, concerns, general opinions? I'd like to hear them all. And again, I know that Kendra is still kind of coming off as super powerful. She isn't. But we'll get there._


End file.
